I was brought into this world by the miracle of birth,
Just another living thing on the planet we call earth.
But as time has gone beside, I was taught that I am more,
I’ve been told that I am human, that I am superior.
I have grown up in a world, full of tales of the war,
While the bad part of the stories I have chosen to ignore.
And enchanted by the dreams of the fool that I have been,
I have followed up my heart and the warrior within.
And I went to join the army, out of vanity and pride,
In the name of our fathers, for the glory of my flag.
So I packed up all my bags and I’ve taken up my gun,
As I went to fight the shadows of the desert’s hungry sun.
And I needed to remember all the reasons that I fight,
While I’m setting up my armor like a medieval knight.
As my knees start to tremble on the weight of all this gear,
So my mind is being burdened by the gathering of fear.
There is smoke and dust, as explosions start the dance,
As my life is being taken by the cruel vortex of chance,
And my muscles start to fail me as I stumble to my knees,
While bullets fly around me like a swarm of angry bees.
And my instincts start to guide me, as I fire up my gun,
As I fight along my brothers, ’til the enemy is done.
And I stop among the ruins, for I hear someone is crying,
And I see four children asking their father to stop dying.
I have woken in a nightmare, and I just have realized,
As my gun falls to the ground for my hands are paralyzed.
And I drop down to my knees and I look around with horror,
While the children of the desert are devoured by the sorrow.
And they pick the gun and point me, As I’m standing in the sand,
For they want to tell me something, yet I can not understand.
And I want for them to kill me, for the coward that I am,
Hoping that in death won’t follow all this images of damn.
But they give me back my gun, with their teary hazel eyes,
And they let go of the hate in their sad and bitter cries.
And I wish to take all back, and this outcome to avoid,
For they’ve wrong me not, yet their lives I have destroyed.
And I feel like I have pulled, out the pin of a grenade,
As my heart explodes in pieces thrusted by a thousand blades.
For I go back as a hero, yet their eyes have seen a monster,
And I’ll always be remembered as the man who killed their father.
I’ve been told that I am human, from the day that I was born.
But I’ve sold my soul for glory and the things that I now scorn.
For if this means to be human, I don’t want to be so called,
For I left alone those children who where less than 12 years old.
And they’ll probably die of famine by the outcome of your strife,
While their skulls will take the bottom in the pyramid of life.
For you stay up in your towers made of ivory and diamonds,
While the children of your brother are abandoned to the lions.
And I look around with horror in a world that’s getting cold,
For the stories of these children will probably remain untold.
And we carry on our lives, like machines that have no soul,
While the engine that sustains us is the darkness of our core.