Sunrise on the battleground
And the soldiers finally see
The distorted, maligned faces
Of their hated enemy.

A fight breaks in the center,
The defense rages on—
Shoot, stab, hit, grab,
Till the leader calls, “They’ve gone!”

Scattered lay the enemies dead
And the soldiers take a look.
They see the limp, sorry faces
Of the lives that they took.

Taking pictures from the departed
The soldiers try to understand;
They see fathers, mothers, sisters, brothers…
So they’re not much different in the end.

The land goes dark and black
And night passes without a sound.
The soldiers stir, confused, disturbed
Until sunrise on the battleground.