Remorse

Today was a death day.
No honour is found in murder. I see that now. Clearly, like the eagle spies his prey.
They were innocent. The wrong village, at the wrong time - who saw the wrong people and the evil actions they had committed.
Who were we to decide on their death?
I can't imagine
Orders. We were told, forced, to kill any witnesses. We did it without questioning. It's the same as agreeing.
What happens when one takes a life?
I imagine a part of myself is taken too. They latch on, desperate to hold onto life, no matter the cost.
What I need to ackowledge is that I paid their price; and gladly!
I want to give back what I took, but I cannot. I try.
Still.