(A poem I wrote as a high school kid)

There we go for the hundredth time.
Thumps get louder; it’s on for a race.
I hear temple’s bell and churches’ chime.
Seeing myself buried six feet under in earth’s face.
The breath of the sun sinks deep in my skin,
Whirlwind dusts fade the vision away.
Just don’t know why for blood we are kin,
When we are born to die one day.

I see scarlet in my clothes,
Don’t know if it’s from in or out.
But I drag myself further.
Otherwise the pain will clout.
We fight for a living in all devout.
Shattered at last from inside out.
There we go for the hundredth time,
Memories washed with tears and sands of time.

I think of my moon and my little star back home.
What will they do when lord takes me up.
How will she feel placing rose with quivering fingers.
Behind enemy lines, these thought still lingers.
My whole body shakes with national pride.
But a loser after all in personal side.
Trying to lift the flag a little further.
Denying a daughter of her brave father.

Reality sets deep in my mind.
Pierced by triple bullets do I lie.
Just can’t forget the face of her in palanquin.
When she came to seek protection from mine.
Forget me dear for the love I denied.
Forget me dear for my worthiness fake.
Forgive me for the hearts that I made cry.
Forgive me for my little angel’s sake.

My bones get too heavy to lift.
The arms won’t budge neither move nor drift.
I see a strange light illumine the sky.
Is the chariot here to take me high?
The war rages on with all glory and gory.
And he is slowly taking my breath.
I am afraid of dying, also fear to live.
Here it comes; Alas! The arms of death!