Church bells toll for those who have died, and those who are dying.
As Death sits by, silently sharpening his sythe,
black clouds gather in all parts of the sky,
casting their lingering shadow over the land.
War is upon the world.
It holds us all in its tight embrace,
threatening to crush us in its relentless grip.
A lone soldier stands at the edge of a scarred, blackened field.
It mocks him, ridicules him, harasses him.
It is a burning iron thrust into his mind's eye,
reawakening memories and images that no man should ever witness.
A gun in his hand, a tear upon his cheek.
Fire blazing in his eyes and in his heart.
Clinging desperately to what small shred of sanity he still posesses.
Brave soldier, don't die. Come home.
Return to the one who wishes it the most.
Escape from the horror that accompanies the battle,
and never again fall victim to the pain you felt today.
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