The Fighter’s Spirit

I bleed bullets and snort bombs. I’m a heat-seeking or laser-guided sidewinder missile with a bad attitude. I eat torpedoes and vomit rockets. I shelter my compatriots with wings of war. My brain is attuned to the mission of no mercy. I sleep with pistols and wake up with rifles. I engage with the enemy and never stop until scorched earth surrounds the place of battle. I pray only to the gun and worship the belch of the cannon. I am a warrior of honor who knows that I never start force, but use it to end war. I am the fighter’s spirit.