I never thought I would see the day the sun would rise again So much struggle and strife, so much pain and yet I had to pretend everything is alright after the deaths of hundreds and thousands of men to stand up straight, refusing to bend Sometimes the strength of a man's convictions begin to falter not from lack of strength or lack of conviction but the task simply being too great; when knees buckle and bones ache and minds get exhausted and wills get weak, the situation begins to seem and feel hopeless and those pessimistic yet contemplative thoughts begin to cross one's mind. . . Why am I here. . .? What is my purpose. . .? What the fuck is the point of all this. . .? And then the rabbit hole slowly begins to open before the mind's eye everything slows down and you suddenly lose all feeling of time passing by the futility in all your efforts to make yourself seem anything but banal but the truth is you're just a kid from a small town Thrown into war with no rhyme or reason committed to a group of people that move with seamless grace as they lay siege to their perceived enemies, enemies you know nothing about; enemies that have lived the same way as you with the same circumstances, fighting for the same reasons their generals and admirals have given them, following the same orders, carrying out the same actions with no permission to think for themselves. I stand alone in a sea of dead bodies both native and foreign and the blood of men mix together and make a sickly crimson that haunts me even till this day. . . Does the fact I keep walking make me heartless? Does the fact I have the will to go on make me thoughtless? Does the fact I move and operate like an automaton mean my soul has departed? Does the fact I can still smile make me human, for I can see the light in the darkness?