We met the enemy, and like a mirror, saw ourselves. Not gods or devils, But wretched men of flesh and bone, Lost sorrowing souls In which the flame of love once dwelt. (Author's note. A very short poem but hopefully very powerful. How is the enemy viewed by the opposing force? It is often said that 'one man's terrorist is another man's freedom fighter'. Are they all saints or all sinners? I let the reader decide.)