BULLET...

It barely made a sound

Yet left evil in its wake

Bodies littered, congealed blood

Eyes wide open with holes on the forehead

Faces contorted in a smirk

Taunting death as it stretched its claws

It started out large

But grew smaller and more potent

Small metallic devils

To whose music, the war danced

All men succumb when it calls

Figures lying writhing in agony

The first group are hopeless

A knock on the skull

And death opens the doorknob

Those hit on the left part of the chest

Suffered a similar warped fate

Those hit in the belly

Take the long and painful road

But will eventually reach their destination

If no help arrives

Bent over and with bloodied hands

Trying in vain to stop

The oncoming rush of blood

The icy cold hand still awaits

With mixed certainty, though

Those hit on the limbs

Shattered bones, torn arteries

Delay can make the limb turn dark 

With a greyish-green, lifeless hue

The limbs is cut off

And tossed to the icy cold hand

The wounded man is safe 

A stump remains

As the machine guns continue to make music

Lifeless men piled up in mass graves

Cases containing these shiny metals

Arrive in their numbers

Many countries away

Briefcases exchange hands

The businessman counts his profits

At the war front

The General reports his progress

"We need more arms and ammunition"

His message is relayed, more cases arrive

After countless battles

The General is shouting, his voice hoarse

"When will the war end?" a weary soldier asked

"When we run out of ammunition...or men" The General answered

An ambush decimated the men

That night, with head hanging low

The General asked the voice at the other end of the line

"What is this unending war about?"

Just then a truck arrived

Bearing more cases

©Kelvin Alaneme, 2014. Follow me on Twitter @dr_alams