Wasn\'t the life for him...

Cat scratches at the door
clears foot steps on the floor,
clock ticking from left to right,
soon it will be time to fight,
drums getting faster beat by beat,
marchers march and stamp their feet,
the clock strikes 12 & now its time,
for the art of death will soon be mine,
so grab your weapon,
stand up streight,
walk outside,
shut the gate,
turn around & take one last look,
at the world, war has shook,
cherish the memory, with a crystal tear,
and now its time for you to face your fear,
aim your weapon,
target locked,
pull the trigger,
hear the shock,,
shrieking sceams haunt your mind,
the dead boys body you cannot find
you hate your self for ever more,
so you walk back through your bedroom door,
the army wasn\'t the life for me,
but one more death is nessessary,
so you aim your weapon,
target locked,
pull the trigger,
but i cant stop,
i fall to my death,
i land on my bed,
i am found with,
one single gun shot,
to the head,
i bet you cant seem to wonder,
why i did it so,
because of my life had no splendour,
do i desereve to live? no...