(a memory recounted by the Byron collective)
Rise maggot scum! There’s no time for tears at war; look at you! Rise, here they come! Soon we’ll all wear guts and gore; look at you…

What were you hoping to find when you went into war? War’s not a theme park where you can enjoy any ride you want. You have been placed in this dangerous battleground and all of a sudden your war isn’t looking so meaningful now. Get your head down; some may fall by the bullet. Hope that you’re never in their line of sight, you’re the target. Or didn’t you understand all of the rules at the time that you signed your name? You should have known better. What did you want? All of the glory without the tragedy? Pay some attention! You’re in the real world now, boy.

Well I hope that you have a voice of reason, you’ll need it to survive ‘cause this ain’t a game anymore; the only goal is to stay alive.

You, man the machine gun. The opposition are advancing their forces forward. We meet them at sundown; this is the day where you can show us what you’re made of. Well, what do you stand for? What are your reasons for killing? Or is the bloodshed not enough to deter you from murder? This power struggle will exist for eternity. You’ll see that every man just wants to live freely.

You, grab your machete. You had better be ready; thirty-seven men in the frontline fell to a hail fire of bullets and we need more time. Well, what do you stand for? What are you waiting for? Kill ‘em! It’s not the beautiful picture they painted for you. Is it everything you want it to be or were you deceived by your country who feeds off the fear that it spreads on its quest for complete global dominance?

On the wind are the names of the deceased and on the ground are the bodies piling at your feet and it turns out this isn’t about democracy. Because you’ll see that war is more horrific than you knew. Mommy isn’t here to save you. Maybe if you’re lucky you will live to make it home.

Clear those murder holes.

This was you, as you once existed here.

Those who you run to, have taken life from you. Those who would guide you are not who define you. Run; don’t wait ‘til your relatives are all corpses. Go home.