The Survivor

These eyes are wide open forever now ,
For they have seen things ,
Seen things that this man was listening for ages ,
From the time he was a child ,
He knew what would it be like ,
But never knew what would it be like to him ,
Every crimson is blood to him now ,
Every voice is a scream to him now ,
Every silence ia a haunting hallow now ,
This man of war will soon be forgotten,
and so will be his comrades who died in his arms ,
Men who stared in his eyes whilst dying and stared forever ,
People who come to him when he tries to sleep ,
Asking him why did he let them die ,
Never can he forget those friends lying on the land ,
gasping for a single more breath each time ,
Never can he forget the blood and guts of men ,
And will find them everywhere around him wherever shall he go ,
Now he is no one but
A boy who walks alone in the dark ,
A boy who gets frightened on every noise ,
A boy who screams every morning before rising ,
A boy who cries and hates himself for being alive ,
A boy who hates himself for a survivor