Trenches

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Fighting the battle within my head, the ghastly voice sending me over.

The enemy, my head, the most dangerous of all.

As I prepare to fight my mind, I can barely hear the whistle over my screams.

As I climb over, all I see is cracked ground riddled with craters and metal scraps.

Shooting at an enemy only I can see, doubt and hatred zooming by me.

I take a step and all I feel is pain, all I see is redness.

I see a figure slowly approach as my vision returns.

Death himself has come to take me home.

The enemy has won. The war is lost.

And then it starts again.

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