What should I do?
I will always remember this day
Where I said "goodbye".
He replied, pride in the body,
A Nation's call to duty.
I was so proud of him, his future
What about "War is evil" rang false.
I saw him as a warrior, a man of the future Fort
, fighting for a noble cause, I saw a hero.
I remember him from The
smile, beckoning us from the hand.
We were sure to see him return.
We were convinced of a great destiny.
Explore this text ...
This all seemed normal.
We were very proud!
And waited in a mundane
The return of our son on his land.
I'll always remember this day ...
From my wife ripping a yell.
In his hands a letter from the Army
Announcing neither more nor less than the death of our child.
My son ... My wife died on the floor screaming ...
A crack irreversible excruciating pain ... More
way of thinking, my whole body burning
... And every second I am now, unbearable.
Since then, every night I stay in front of the fireplace.
I look at the photo of my son,
His smile frozen for eternity
Being aware that this is my shroud I weave.
When my eyes met the black ribbon
In the lower right corner of the photo,
At this moment I am reminded by my blindness My
national sentiments.
When I go to bed like every night,
I squeeze myself against the one that collapsed in tears.
How is it that we did not anticipate?
How is it that has not been afraid?
I constantly ask myself, why
Seek And he died
especially the hand which, moreover
Even though I know that he also did his duty.
War ... war ... war ...
Because of it I lost my child,
I can not find the woman I loved once
And I can not hate her ... But ... Always
the same images that come back.
That smile, those reassuring words
... I know that whatever happens they will
each day a little more offensive.
Hatred won a heart more.
Mine beats to the rhythm of revenge.
At no other feeling it leaves Instead, it is
Blinded by a new intolerance.
My spirit cries out for justice, whether from below or from above.
my son's body breaks down somewhere
And we bury two plates and a flag.
Fate is cruel in many ways ...
War ... war ... war ...
Because of it I lost my child,
I am the ghost of the man I once
And I still can not hate her ... yet ...
I often wonder how it happened.
I also wonder how son mine was killed.
I tell myself that I should stop him.
I tell myself that I could not protect him.
Is what I see vengeance in a way which
On my mind focuses destroyed?
Or is it my last piece of humanity who, unbeknownst to me,
Hides for not that I destroy?
I wonder what in the hell on earth, still hangs
me to this life.
Is it my punishment for not being the father
Who would have anticipated, which would have included?
But understanding what, exactly?
That war breeds war?
me God will reward a hundredfold?
Or any other kind of crap that we used?
Am I in my turn to go to war for personal reasons?
It seems that it is the best in the forehead ...
Or should I suffer in silence, alone, With
as comfort, condolences of the Nation,
proud of us for so great a sacrifice
Who just fucked our lives in the air?
So I ask you as a service ...
What should I do?
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