All You Know

All these people. All of those opinions. All of those black, tar, splintering bullets.

Once they shoot, they're opinions come straight at your heart, or your eye, or your leg. You don't know they're real name, or where they're from or what they wanted to do when they grow up. You don't know if they're innocent or have succumbed to powerful gods. All you know, is that that person was trained to kill. One specific person. You.

All you know, is that bullet coming towards your face.

You don't know guilt, or repulsion, or anything personal of the enemy. All you know, is the bullet.

All you'll know...

Life. War. Death.