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English Poem
English Poem
I’m walking;
Everything is blurry because of the hazy air.
They’re so close, I feel.
Fear of getting shot? I do not care.
This is not my first battle on the field.
I unsheath my knife,
I'm looking for the last enemy.
Where death outnumbers life,
And fury smites the air.
I have a chance to die,
If I die on my last mission,
On my face, there will be one last smile.
Tell this to all the soldiers in my division,
I’ll be watching them from heaven.