Will I die today?
A bullet zips past my head.
Dust, gunpowder, shrapnel,
  the screams of fallen brothers.
Will I die today?
My legs buckle with fear,
My arms shake with anxiety,
My lips quiver with trepidation.
Will I die today?
A bullet cuts through an artery.
Blood and mist sprays without cease,
I clutch my wound screaming:
Will I die today?

Am I alive?
Can I not feel the beat within my chest?
Am I dreaming?
Why can’t I move my legs?
Or my arms? Or my mouth?
Why can’t I feel emotion?
Where’s the joy? Where’s the anxiety?
Where’s the confusion? Where’s the anger?
Why can’t I run away from my fate?
Do I have a destination?
  Do I have an objective?
   Or have I already gone to the
    point of no return?