I used to love these dreary, gray days
they'd lift my spirits
out of the muddy trenches
and straight through No-Man's-Land.
But today
gas
is
approaching
yellow and lurching
choking -
soldiers of the mind engulfed by
a creeping monstrosity.
The screams -
guttural like a raven's croak -
are unbearable
I was not ready for this.
I was too soft
we're all too weak.
It's a wonder
that there
is
anyone
left.
Apr 6, 2017
Apr 6, 2017 at 2:31 PM UTC
I used to love these dreary, gray days
they'd lift my spirits
out of the muddy trenches
and straight through No-Man's-Land.
But today
gas
is
approaching
yellow and lurching
choking -
soldiers of the mind engulfed by
a creeping monstrosity.
The screams -
guttural like a raven's croak -
are unbearable
I was not ready for this.
I was too soft
we're all too weak.
It's a wonder
that there
is
anyone
left.
