I was alone in a field, with the land already burned by the fires of war. Nothing was left beside corpses of fallen comrades and the glory of the dismembered ennemies. I was standing there.
And I was seeing a light far in the east. The sun is going to rise, and colorize this bloody world.
My own blood, and all the liquid left by my sworn brothers in my arms I have seen dying, closing their eyes.
"Good night, Friend." I will fight for the country and our glory tomorrow again.
And so here they come, more people asking for me to get pierced by my sword and striked by my power.
-A good day for dying is a better one for killing.
YOU ARE READING
Prose and poetry
PoetryProse and poetry, feelings and speech in text. I wanted to live as a human, But never never really was a man.
