Jihad
I was eight when I first felt
The cold metal between my hands
Felt the power that was mine
For joining the holy war
I was eight when I was told
Of the enemy we faced
Cold, calculating, ruthless
And determined to exterminate us
No matter the cost
I was eight when I went
On my first mission
Penetrating deep into enemy territory
Seeking out the filthy beasts
Who were not noble and just
Like us
Who deserved to die for their polluted ideology
That would corrupt our people
If we did not strike first
I was eight when I first stood
In front of the enemy
A child no older than myself
And was told by my commander
To blast her to the depths of Hell
For what she represented
And what she would one day become
I was eight when I complied
And riddled her with holes
Praised by my commander
But confused in the moment
By her oozing corpse
And the realization that
We all bleed the same