In the fading twilight of the distant land, I stand, a young man burdened by the weight of dreams and cruel reality of war. The sun dips low, casting long shadows that mimic the uncertainty of my weary eyes.
My uniform, once a symbol of my pride and bravery, now clings to me, soaked to the skin, stained with trauma of battles fought and friends lost. I feel the weight of my own mortality, drawing out every pulse of life, which I continue to fight for, and diminishing it with every beat. The echoes of distant gunshots and ghostly whispers of comrades long gone fade into the lonely rhythm of my fatigued footsteps on the blood-soaked earth.
As I look around the place I am to die, the landscape tells tales of courage and devastation. The ground once flourishing with beautiful hues of life, now bears the scars of conflict - a severe contrast to the wonderful memory of green fields and laughter at home, a memory I longed to have back.
I tried to think that no matter what would happen, I had fought well today, and served my country. But to die for one's country is not to be seen as valour, but disgust. I should die for me, when I am ready. And even though I had done my side well, I had not benefited anyone's lives, only those cruel men in power who long for victory. Had I met the men that I had killed today under different circumstances, perhaps we could have been friends rather than labelled foe by the world.
I broke down onto my knees. My legs would not carry me any further across the barren land. I lay down looking up, holding onto that delicate string of life. God's gentle hands had painted the sky in soft oranges and reds which swiftly chased after the sun in the horizon. They were her favourite colours at least. I smiled at the thought of her.
As the carefully placed amber and rose swirls surrendered to night and faded into insignificance as did my soul. I now face the unknown with a mix of emotions. In the quiet moments before the storm, I pondered life, my dreams that die here with me and the symphony of war that plays its cruel notes in the last moments of my ruined life.
And then, like a fading star, I vanish into the night with a smile on my face. However the war continues its relentless march, but in the stillness of this moment, I become another chapter in the unfolding story of conflict and loss...
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To Live is to Die
PoetryI find war a fascinating topic-so broad yet so focused, filled with so many emotions and endless stories to explore. Sadness has its own kind of beauty, and that's what I wanted to capture here. To Live is to Die is my way of remembering the lives s...