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A dreary night of inferno--1941 noises of bullets and hand grenades came flying as one. The moon lit nearing midnight, of course it's the time of freight. I found myself anxiously descending the wooden staircase, I feel my brows dampen as my heart race. Taking one last step from this wooden step, to the numbing cold of the cement. I knew someone there sensed, my weary-vulnerable presence. Then came a spine-chilling radio-crack, "Abort, abort!" it said with a manic crack. There and there I heard of nothing, but hurried footsteps as it sounds escaping. A long second passed silence ruled then followed the sky, dropping frenzied screech in my ear like a wandering fly. All in the darkness came white and last of me remember, neighboring plank woods, and rooftops are in ashes from an ember. I knew then and there in my slumber, that war is over. Times passed I knew after all my eyes were blinded, by a droplet of explosion which costed me a life-time incapacitated. I thought with all-hell surpassed I have finally met freedom, yet still I died sitting in this dark park of boredom. There on my last anxious sighs seated blindly on a warm wooden bench, beside a cold-cemented statue of a false hero drenched. Nearing midnight I knew I heard in my mind, Uttering a hungry cry saying that "war is blind!"
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Apr 9, 2016
Apr 9, 2016 at 5:20 AM UTC
Price of freedom
A dreary night of inferno--1941 noises of bullets and hand grenades came flying as one. The moon lit nearing midnight, of course it's the time of freight. I found myself anxiously descending the wooden staircase, I feel my brows dampen as my heart race. Taking one last step from this wooden step, to the numbing cold of the cement. I knew someone there sensed, my weary-vulnerable presence. Then came a spine-chilling radio-crack, "Abort, abort!" it said with a manic crack. There and there I heard of nothing, but hurried footsteps as it sounds escaping. A long second passed silence ruled then followed the sky, dropping frenzied screech in my ear like a wandering fly. All in the darkness came white and last of me remember, neighboring plank woods, and rooftops are in ashes from an ember. I knew then and there in my slumber, that war is over. Times passed I knew after all my eyes were blinded, by a droplet of explosion which costed me a life-time incapacitated. I thought with all-hell surpassed I have finally met freedom, yet still I died sitting in this dark park of boredom. There on my last anxious sighs seated blindly on a warm wooden bench, beside a cold-cemented statue of a false hero drenched. Nearing midnight I knew I heard in my mind, Uttering a hungry cry saying that "war is blind!"
12-29-14
meister-lendonshire
Written by
Apr 9, 2016
Apr 9, 2016 at 5:20 AM UTC
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