A war has no winners
High over that mountain peak,
where clouds seem closer than soil,
Sat a young man,
huddled in a tiny bunker.
He saw across the mountain,
Not far from his bunker,
was another young man,
huddled in his shelter.
Both men struggled to keep warm,
Both men whistled to fight loneliness,
Both men keen on sports news,
Both men yearned for home.
Both men were trained soldiers,
True sons of their soil,
If both men were to return,
Covered in their national flag,
Is an imaginary line on paper enough?
to decide who is the villian and who gets a hero's welcome?