We sat in the circle and prayed
just ten minutes before the raid
The general checking on us like we were eggs
just waiting to hatch
Each group of us struggling to find our calm
When the instinctual emotion was anxiety
some of us began to chant, others to nod
to bless loved ones and make peace with god
The exploding bombs started ripping up from the south
Our unit ran to the big anti aircraft guns and opened fire
everything shook as the planes came in fast
so many planes, would our ammunition last?
The noise the smoke the overwhelming excitement
Such a foreign contrast to our tranquil prayer
shrapnel made it through walls and doors
and a few friends whose fortune was poor
The gun I controlled blazed and blazed until I was exhausted
They pulled me out and put the next man in as if I was the magazine
or just a simple bullet created for one mundane purpose
Whose gun are you ammunition for?
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