Blood pooling.

Friends to the left.

Friends to the right.

Given their all.

Wishing to hear.

The crackle,

Of the radio.

Bringing salvation.

Your fallen team.

Their last minutes,

Calling out.

To loved ones and mothers.

Wiping your tears.

With steading hands.

You gather,

Forty rounds.

Your last friends.

Momentary quiet returns.

Sun filters though.

As you see.

Shadows advancing.

As you know,

This is it.

No last minute,

Cavalry bugle.

Just you,

And your last friends.

As the third bee stings.

Time slows.

Making your peace.

Praying for forgiveness.

Looking up.

Seeing for the first time.

The beauty of the jungle.