Would that we could know....

A single shot rings out,
you hear a stricken child's cry.
It is a simple plea,
No one is ever ready to die.

You can hear them fleeing,
Taste the fear in the air.
Along the way you see some bleeding,
but there isn't time to care.

A moments breath is wasted
and a minutes' flight is gone.
Yet still you hear them coming,
getting closer, it's almost dawn.

Why run? You're not worth much,
no secrets can you disclose.
This seems a flight of fancy.
You've never had any foes.

Finally there is darkness,
pain and many questions explode inside your mind.
When you wake, no time to reflect,
you're at the end of a line.

Prisoners of War,
of Life,
and of Death.

Prayers, they all are wasted,
tears simply stain.
For all your pleas and cries,
You receive only Hell and pain.