Tze Min Tsai – Republic of China
Prints of hurried feet,
How many stampede?
My comrades lay in a pool of blood.
Sounds of killing, rumbling,
Winces under sharp knives.
Look to the other side of the enemies,
Seemed so far away.
Come to a mind, life and death, only.
Looking back the antecedents behind.
Forgotten all about already.
The only war that can be found,
The inner struggles against
the comes out of the intentions of poems in arm.