War: The ill of War

I'm but a 14 year old boy to some.
Yet I have fought
My way through with a gun
Serbian military lines didn't stop me!
God what will become of me?
The Bosnian Serbs have lost their mind.
Ethnic cleansing, religious hatred and NATO warplanes;
These are the things God disdains!
However some say He's Allah,
Others call Him Christ,
But as for me
I'm running for my life.
Meanwhile brother takes brother's life
And others take care to hide their wife.
For though the people be divided,
Some have intermarried and coincided.
Why can't we agree?
Upon the simplicity of life
And put and end to all the strife?
Is the matter so great and important
That we kill
And inflict upon the world such ill?
Me, I need it not.
For I take no pleasure
In viewing deaths
Of such gruesome measure.
Fatality one after another…
No time to sit and eat with mother.
For I am now a man
As a result of war.
I am one of you,
Heartless and rotten to the core!
Rejoice in me
Your new creation.
Tell the demigods
Of alleviation,
Of all that is holy,
Of all that is just!
For in ourselves,
We now trust.
For we've progressed beyond
Natural affection.
We build our empires
And seek election.
Disregard me!
For I'm but a peasant,
A naredowell,
Of a tiny remnant.
I have no power.
I have no voice.
I have only life
And that's my choice.

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