Looking Through Smokescreen
Another day, another battle,
Another mission, that was fatal,
I knew I was done,
I saw the foe run,
My smokescreen was a shield,
My movement was concealed,
I had iron in my chest,
I did not, want to rest,
I saw him land in front of me,
He crawled towards finality,
I aimed so high, and yet so low,
It was done, in a blow,
The jarring noise, ahead of me,
Was just another day for me,
I was alone, surrounding all,
I was atop, the life, so tall,
My only love isn’tGlock,
Used to be, Heckler and Koch,
The MP5 and Remington Steel,
Enough for me for any deal,
My bare hands weave a spell,
The other side can never tell,
It’s not a ‘waging war of cold’,
It’s a ‘hot pursuit’, I was told,
I march on without a qualm,
I unarm them, without my arm,
My shield is always accurate,
My foemen choose to conflagrate,
I have seen, through my screen,
What they show, what they mean,
I am never on the scene,
For them to know what I deem.
It is not that I have some robotics installed in me. It is not that I do not know how it feels to feel. Yet, I do not feel any pain, when I target them from my position. When I snipe at them, it’s an immense relief to know, there is one rascal less to handle.
Through the smokescreen that I come across, life does not portray itself as an ensemble of my favourite choir, anymore. It is not, all beauty and charm of a composed and serene air of what I call home. It divides a man into a clear yes and a clear no, in order to sharp shoot. It is a battle of nerves more than it is a battle of them and us. I do not hesitate to recall, we are all humans, afterall. I am not hiding ever, to attack. I just do not reveal until, I have been called out to combat. Then, it’s my terms we play by.
I am lured by them to the final altar. There, who ends up beingthe altarage, is obviously not my fault, but my doing. I face their clamour, always composed, and yet they hate to be my foes.
To me, the shields I wear, are just accessories. I really do not need much protection when I am behind a flimsy cloud. The cloud of smoke is enough to render them blind who came here searching for easy targets. To me, the limitations do not exist. I can see unaided through the smoke screen, clearer than they see with their visual aids.
I am not a sniper, nor a clandestine agent. I am just an ordinary kind. A wayfarer on a journey to combat the nastiest of the creatures. Must I tell you, what I crave the most- feasting on the opportunity to crush the bones of those who undermine me, who believe they can rob me off my treasures of faith and love. Enough said.Trust me you do not want to know more.
