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Tahlia-rayne Nov 2018
What are we doing?
Our words are growing quieter
Our touches strained
Our hearts building a small wall each day
Hurting it's hands pushing the bricks and materiel together without us even knowing
Why are we here?
It's like there's something in our minds still fighting tooth and nail for a war nobody believes in anymore and our bodies are just following along
Maybe it's time this war came to an end
I don't think either of us want to deal with the casualties of our love dying along with our hope
fearfulpoet Aug 2018
surrender and defeat,
my fated causality,
by mine own hand done in,
'twas the death I ordained,
when to the addiction of ego,
I did, did I,
concede and become another casualty
by mine own mind
Brandon Conway Jun 2018
A handful of dust, immortality
A portrait to age, immorality
A hungry lust doth consume, apathy
A conscience driven mad, insanity
Narcissistic soul buried, casualty
The capturing of youth, causality
Ezra Yelverton Apr 2018
There’s residue on my torso, dark twisted and tainted by blood.
I’ve seen this once before, convinced that I would never be here again
The aesthetics are casualties of war.
I’ve lost control of the cannon in my chest.
Mystic Ink Plus Feb 2018
Blast was/is /will
Never be

Music of my choice.
Theme: Haiku for Peace. A moment to Syria.
AtMidCode Nov 2017
to hurt

explained that
mean it

in her
and see
the knife
only pierce
my flesh
but also
her soul

-i am not the only casualty
Luna Craft Nov 2016
Today's another illusion, another dissolution with my reality
A casualty of war; a mind that can't handle sanity
The thoughts of thought long forgotten, independent
Exceeding all that was perceived, a unseen precedent
Of minds throwing thorns at the throats of lost children
Dreams of a crippled life of being hidden
That ripple beyond the dead sun and burdened eyes
We finally see nothing beyond the lies;
Mel L Feb 2016
The water rises,
as my nose dives in,
into this fear that's growing,
but yet not showing.
I soon will be drowning,
not coughing on water-
but yet choke on fear-
as I've awoke the fight or flight within-
that feels like the punishment of all my sins,
it seems to last forever,
wish upon this to another-
I would never,
for it is torture,
I know nothing more sure-
than how horrible it is to be stuck within yourself
in the midst of its own war,
I feel the end coming deep in my core.

And I-
will be the only casualty.
Anxiety is a *****. You're the only one who truly experiences the horrors when a panic attack happens, nobody truly sees or understands. It's a solo war against yourself in which you are the only casualty. But yet you somehow survive and then eventually go on to go through it all over again and again, day after day...
Jayanta Sep 2015
Philosopher once said
“Everyone is involved in constructing their own world!”
But what I will construct..... ?
“At that time,
We are playing in the courtyard,
My sister cooking on Coconut cell
I was a fisherman, catching fish
( it was a world of imagination where sand were the rice
Leaf of pumpkin were the fish)
All of a sudden father’s voice is come in
He is running towards home from the field
and outcry “again it is coming, get out and
Let’s go to main road”;
My mother was almost pasty,
Elder sister pick up important things in a bag
along with some utensil;
In a moment all of we run towards the main road,
When we reached there it was full of fallow villagers
My father searching for my uncle in the crowd
and get him;
He took us to a corner along the side of the road,
It was small shed made out of plastic sheet;
Uncle said to ‘now we have to stay here until normalcy come down’;
We sit on the floor with my sister,
Mother and aunt both are crying,  
Father is looking towards the habitat;  
Water flowing in.....  everything immerse.....
Only the areca nut tree and bamboo indicates
Where our home was;
All of we are waiting for the moment to water goes out
This it is second time in the year,
Last year it was once,
Year before last year my younger brother was washes out;
‘Can you tell me how we stop this?’
‘Whether I will create my world far from the river or construct a wall?’
Devastating flood in our state sprak same question to everyone .
CastorPolydeuces Jul 2015
Lately, I spend my free time imagining how I'd look at a funeral.
I've been before, but all I felt was discomfort and splintering hatred.
What if you died. My darling, I'm afraid I wouldn't change.
I'd go and stare at the wall, the floor, the people who don't know you.
Dry eyes and a judgmental, lethargic gaze settled in.
I never cried in front of you, why would cry in front of them.

I'd watch as the flag was presented, uniforms marching by the coffin.
Perhaps this would be different. I think my hatred would burn a bit brighter.
Those who ordered your death, now dictating your burial. They don't love you. They don't care.
All you are is one more casualty. One more insignificant ant being squished underfoot and forgotten.
I hate funerals.
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