5 am was when the yells woke me.
The battle begun; Terror struck all those who were free.
The others had to fight for their rights.
As soon as it started, there were so many lights.
Gun flashes, pistols, grenades, and screams.
Trust me. It's not as good as it seems.
The minister watched and was pleased.
I wanted awfully bad to have his neck squeezed.
Women, children, and the innocent died.
He just sat there, engulfed in his pride.
Only twenty-one made it to the final round.
But still he put them in chains and they were bound.
I wept for weeks.
Until no more tears flew down my cheeks.
My brother died in that war.
His blood still stains the field floor.
I cant take this. I'm done.
I reach for my mother's gun.
She will weep with sorrow.
But at least I'll see my brother tomorrow.