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Madness of the SoldierThe soldier stood, at the edge of his mind;
Treading the line of his sanity,
Kill or be killed, all he'd been taught,
"Your job is not to think!"
The soldier stood, on the brink of despair;
The devil and demons for company,
Grenades and bullets - the life he chose,
Tanks and RPGs.
The soldier stood, conflicted inside;
Searching his soul for the truth,
One man's hero, another's paraiah,
Ordered to die for the "good of the nation".
The soldier stood, thinking of home;
Of safety, of love, of comfort and warmth,
Of farcical laws, domestic troubles,
Petulant squabbles and false self-importance.
The soldier stood, at the edge of his mind;
Dancing a jig with his madness,
Visions of pain, destruction and chaos,
Crawling like insects inside of his head,
The soldier gave in,
By no mortal enemy;
Slain by his consciousness.
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