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

#bleed #poetry #amwriting