Tranches
Arimies marching towards the frontline by,
Covered in worst anxiety of the war,
Hoping for survival and return home,
Standing next to trenches to hide out guns
As if they were playing hide and seek with,
Boom, Boom, Boom, shells arriving on their sides
Only thing that goes through their minds will be,
Killing one more of their enemies before
Dying from the enemies' bullets going through their hearts
Crashing the hopes to see his family once again.
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