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War Grenade

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I hold onto it
I grip the soft grooves
I know its power,
its deadly aftermath-
a shower of metal.
If I mess around, it could mean death.


My finger grasps the pin
The enemy only four meters away.
A bead of sweat, navigates down my cheek.
The grenade is drenched with anticipation
ready for battle.
I pull the pin.
Then roll the grenade
noiselessly toward the ground.
As it tumbles toward the leader
I run.
I run for the bunker
only 50 feet away,
buried by forest camouflage.
Then I am stunned.
I didn’t make it.
The sound is deafening,
I can hear my heart, beating throughout my head
and a small buzz, nagging my brain.
Two seconds later, I’m hit.
A thousand shards of jagged metal
Piercing my skin
with excruciating pain.
As the sound dies down
I look through my blood filled eye
At the pile of quiet, mangled bodies
During these last seconds
I know I have accomplished the mission.





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