Bullets of the Mind

[bena]

While the title was intriguing, the rest of the poem didn't live up to it for me. Here's a breakdown:

Bullets of the Mind

Bullets leave without instructions, mostly without intention. Randomly passing harmlessly,
leaving only a whistle to indicate death was close.
The turmoil of war, unlike Hollywood,
is chaotic, perhaps good fortune determining outcomes;
enemies undistinguished from friends,
hate or love removed from a game seemingly played by Greek Gods of War.
In this decision<->making hell<,>
I rely entirely on instinct,
those who I think are my friends,
and God.

Mind you, if you are a Brit, some of my comments are possibly incorrect (whom, undistinguished.)


Cheers,
mel/bena