From Up Above

 I sit crouched up on the topmost post, 

Of the tower meant to overlook the waterhole

I feel dizzy, but god forbid I sleep

The fate of the country rests on my 

Keen eyes, I keep alert.

And just like that, in the calmness of the night, 

Sounds of commotion are heard coming by

The horizon flared up in smokes of dust 

Hooves and trumpets all from afar.

I wake from my trance, in time to ring the bell 

Alert the soldiers who sleep in the cells.

I gather my weapon, they lie long in the dust 

Time to raise them at the targets, discard the rust.

Gunshots and arrows, war calls and cries 

My ears are deafened by the noise of life.

I remember briefly the people waiting back home 

Parents, children, and the one who nurtures them.

I raise my rifle and shoot at them, roaring.

A bullet grazed me, and I lay down bleeding.

Here is my breath about to stop, the camp lost 

My life is just another number game.

© Suranya