Ten Loh

Sweat pours down your face
Every breath inhaled, only a fraction comes out.
In the dreaded silence of space
Nothing pumps adrenaline, like a soldier’s shout.

Nine archers shoot the nine moons*
An explosion so brilliant that it can stun
One hundred men are in a swoon
Oblivious to the hidden guns

A brass flood in the night
Bullets ricocheting off trees
A cascade of red is your sight
Forcing you to crawl on your knees

Driving a car with comrades and the fear of death
The stench of blood is sour
Your visibility is zero, you do the math
Your senses dulled every hour

In the nightlight, you shine brightly
Light reflected of the traces of purple, green and brown
Yet, you still stand high and mighty
And your countenance has no trace of a frown

Skin broken to shattered pieces
Nerves send the pulse
The putrid smell of feces
Makes your senses go false.

The broke men have no money to spend,
Nothing left to lose, nothing with to gain
But they are, to the end, close friends
Sharing each other’s agonizing pain

Never to let go, never to disperse
Always for each other, although diverse
The time may end quickly, think fast
Don’t be regretting during your last flash to the past.