The child in his sights

Doing his duty ,
Knowing the risk,
Taking the pain,
Taking the shit.

As he is fighting,
Soaked in the blood,
Of his enemies throat,
Face in the mud.

In the brief second he shot,
He thought in his mind,
Is this who i am,
Is this right.

All i am is a killer,
Takes lives away,
Then i go back home,
With nothing to say.

Just shoot the boy,
Pull the trigger,
Stop thinking ,
Should have done it quicker.

The round hits home,
The small child falls,
And like a well oiled machine,
I shoot again to make sure.

He just sits there and stares,
Thinking what he has done,
Laid in his bed,
Images won't shun.

Of that poor child,
Gasping for breath,
Holding his throat,
Turning to death.

Can't control the guilt,
He is going crazy,
All that he has killed is there,
His vision is hazy.

He turns on his wife,
Hits her to the ground,
Then turns on his child,
With the knife he has found.