Bullets Are

Bullets are No easy breathe After death My body is buried feet under The place is safe here I was way laid When passing through raid prone area One bullet took my life away I was declared passed away What sort of madness is this? How many more sacrifices? The families may be waiting for arrival But I was not to reach at all I am given state of honor Buried with tears and words for Showing so much of courage Words of praises written clearly on page I find total change in scene It is hostility from neighboring nation How many more shall be dying? Meanwhile bullets are still flying