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| <<<>>> |
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a weakened position |
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| Created by Decius at
| [+ favourites]
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The worst part of the war isn't the battle or death.
nor is it the preparation or the sacrifice.
What pains those that survived a war
is the memory of those that died for them to live.
The guilt and loneliness of lost comrades,
as though their lives mean nothing without them.
They died through evil and those that died were the most pious.
For in any battle it is the purest who perish first.
Running ahead in the name of their homes,
Of their wives, children and fellow defenders.
We bow our heads down and weep for the beautiful.
A tear or two may trickle down our breathing cheeks.
Knowing the truth about the death that knifed us.
Because the best has been cut out, and the rotten is left to wither.
What is left is the cancer, the cowardly, the fearful.
The unsure, the pained, the insane.
as it was a battle in the trenches,
It was a battle in my heart.
Years ago, and heroes have been borne since.
Yet none with my blood running through their veines. |
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| Created by Decius at
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