The sky is so bleak, it shrieks with falling planes that
fall in the cold rain
I look below me and see the chaos, thousands of men charging
into the fray
I can only look down for a moment as I must stay alert in
the skies
I Skim the horizon and look for my enemy, my eyes catch his
Like a flash of
lighting I see his machine guns open fire (simile)
They are a pear of scissors as they cut through my canvas wings
(metaphor)
I cannot stray from my duty: Protect the infantry
I push the stick hard down, my nose is pointing to the
ground
I hear the sounds of
combat the bullets whistling like my former drill sergeant (personification)
I can see the faces of soldiers looking up I come screaming
towards them
They cover their heads and duck; I then begin to pull up…
Soon I am pointing straight at the enemy; I close my eyes
and squeeze the trigger
The sound of my machine guns bring me back to reality, I
open my eyes
I only see the anguish as my bullets shred through dozens of
soldiers
However a Fokker is on my tail and I take to the skies once
again
To once again play this deadly game the game of war…