The Battle of Gibraltar

May 12, 2010
Why do we fight?

It leads to disaster.
Red blood in the once clear ocean,
Boats heated with flames,
From explosions that make eardrums burst.

You’re left with nothing,
But the stench of corpses floating in the ocean,
Pieces of wood filled with salt water,
And the memory of taking another man’s life.

There is no feeling of happiness after a battle,
Our population drops,
And you are to blame.
It is not your job to kill your brothers,
But to protect them.

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