No Man's Land

I walk,
Slowly,
Upon a delicate line,
Drawn halfheartedly
Along a grey ashen landscape.

I have long since given up
On trying to avoid the bodies.
I am always asked
Why I do not simply step off the line
And hide my innocent eyes from the horror at my feet.
I always answer,
"Which way would I step?"
There's a red flag to my left
And a blue one to my right
And I can go to neither.

Some days
I convince myself
That I would rather be walking
Alone
Down my line
Than pledging allegiance to one side
And taking up arms in its defense.
For I know what happens
To the soldiers who fight
In battles like these.
They are but memories now;
Small casualties in such a large war.
Soldiers sacrificed like pawns,
Each with the hope of being part of a greater victory,
But as they fall they become insignificant
Little spots of pain that each coloured flag will try to forget.

I will never forget.
I will never forget the bodies,
The blood that stands for
Betrayal... conspiracy... infidelity... history.
Not sure where it starts;
Cannot yet see the end.

This is the place
Where revenge
Drifts across my tongue,
Its promised sweetness
Somehow made sharp and bitter and stale,
Perhaps by the gunpowder that fills the air
As I walk along the line
Drawn across No Man's Land.