It is the eve of destruction
Violence and hatred are raging
Out on the military world stage
As buildings and cities and whole
populations are being bombed
out of existence
And men fighting oppression mount
their resistance against the enemy
The smell of death is in the air
Everywhere
Rotting deaying flesh is mixed with the
high octane smell of gas and diesel fuel
and sulfur gunpowder
These overpowering scents are
strong enough to make a man puke
The smells of war mingle with the orange flames
of fires and clouds of thick billowing black smoke
As rockets and bullets rain down on men
from the air
Bomb dislodged dirt falls in
a constant meteoric shower
Out on the battlefield
The polluted ground is heavily littered
with pieces of exploded body parts
Bloody dismembered and
severed fingers and toes,
Arms and legs and human torsos,
Remnants of shattered limbs
Amidst crimson stained green grasses and
bloodstained upturned brown earth
Men’s limbs may be shattered,
Their clothing tattered,
And their bones blown to bits
But their desire for freedom
is not a shattered dream
Out on the battlefield
Men lie silently dying
While other men are still
fighting to stay alive,
Wounded and bleeding,
But never retreating,
As they cling onto life
and hold their ground,
Trench and foxhole hunkered down
And crying over the loss of their
fellow brothers in arms
Their tears fall like rain
For comrades they couldn’t save
The badly wounded lie screaming
in great pain
War is so damned insane
War can really damage a man’s soul
And the battle rages on
For dominance and control,
Taking its toll on the body and
the mind out on the frontlines
Out on the battlefield
Out on the battlefield there is the constant rat-a-tat-tat of
M-Sixteen machinegun report and the whistle of rockets
And the kaboom of detonated missiles as they hit
their military tragets on the ground
Accompanied by the metal clanking sounds
of titanium tank tracks pulverizing forest trees
into wood pulp and smashing rocks into rubble
In the skies overhead there is the mechanical
whirring sound of rotating helicopter blades
slicing through the smoke filled air
And the dull drone of military fighter
jet airplanes roaring overhead
As their pilots deliver their bomb sorties,
Leaving bombed out craters in the ground
You know,
War isn’t a good life but,
Hey,
It’s life
And it’s life and death
War is a sheer living, breathing hell
Of guns and exploding bombs and mortar shells
Yes, war is a form of Hell above ground,
With its Lake of Fire and Brimstone swirling
in a flowing mass of never-ending death
and destruction
Out on the battlefield