By Brian Turner (Printed in the Washington Post) is veteran of the Iraq war.

Sunday, April 20, 2008; Page BW0

If a body is what you want,

then here is bone and gristle and flesh.

Here is the clavicle-snapped wish,

the aorta's opened valves, the leap

thought makes at the synaptic gap.

Here is the adrenaline rush you crave,

that inexorable fight, that insane puncture

into heat and blood. And a dare you to finish

what you've started. Because here, Bullet,

here is where I complete the word you bring

hissing through the air, here is where I moan

the barrel's cold esophagus, triggering

my tongue's explosives for the rifling I have

inside of me, each twist of the round

spun deeper, because here, Bullet,

here is where the world ends, every time.

-- By Brian Turner (A poem currently being passed around among American soldiers in Iraq)

I will add nothing else to this poem for it speaks for itself.