\"Writing.Com
*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1237170-Crimson-Cardinals
Item Icon
Rated: ASR · Poetry · War · #1237170
A short tale detailing a man's struggle to come face-to-face with the philosophies of war.
Crimson cardinals flying along, singing a tune to a saddening song. Without a warning, one gives a shout, as its blood-red body tumbles about. With a thud and a crunch it whimpers its last, as its frightened flock fly away so fast. A bullet so small, yet mighty indeed, had killed the poor bird, without giving heed.

Knowing a warning when its been given, I hold up my hands, so as to keep living. A body pulls out from behind pine trees. He looks at me, his bloodthirst appeased. "You're getting it good" he said with a glare, his fist making contact; my head in the air.

Black giving away, dark turning to day, I opened my eyes, and saw where I lay. I saw the gray tiles, the steely long bars, and a small little window, showing the world so far. Out the window was gray, the scene chilling the bone--yet at times like this, the sun never shone.

At times like this, at times of war, you never know who will come to your door. Intruders of peace are the people who fight, never distinguishing from wrong or from right. An innocent citizen, that's who I am, yet they'll slaughter me anyway like an innocent lamb.

A chirp at a window, a sound so absurd, caught my attention as I glanced at a bird. The cardinal was singing a sorrowful song, its notes lingering in air, staying so long. Yet the bird flew away as hinges whined; my mind rushing, sanity I couldn't find.

A grim-looking soldier clad in shades of green...he avoided my stare, his eyes weren't seen. He muttered a sob, I could hear his heart throb. "I'm sorry about this. I've been told what to do" he said with a sigh, his words ringing true. Bloodshot eyes looked at me with sadness, I couldn't help but feel slightly amiss.

"You've done me no harm, but my life's on the line. If I mess up again, boss says it'll be time. Cooperate and everything will work out okay, just tell me the info I'm seeking today."

Intruders of peace are the people who fight, never distinguishing from wrong or from right. A hint of err seen in my ways, I looked ahead to meet his gaze. "...What is it you want to know?" my mood somewhat better from the get-go.

Our conversation thus ensuing, he asked me of national plots a-brewing. A simple country-folk am I, the answers to these I couldn't try. Pleading and begging, he asked me again, but my response, sadly, was the same then. "I'm sorry..." I said, a tear beginning...my life would end, and his time was thinning.

He gravely looked at the grime of his shoe, opened the door, and motioned me through. "I've no cause to harm you now..." "Thank you so much" I said with a bow. An innocent citizen, that's who I am, yet they'll slaughter me anyway like an innocent lamb.

I had realized my error, and turned to thank him. But with urgency he declined, and solidly held my limb. "Get away from here before they find what I've done!" Regarding him I ran, life's battle now won.

Emerging from the prison so, I ran; my destination I did not know. Fleeing into forests thick, I gasped for breath, my stomach sick. My heart pounding, my head reeling, I began to lose my legs' feeling.

As I sputtered and gasped for air, I heard something so soft and fair. Looking up, I saw a sight nigh absurd. I witnessed a single spectacular scarlet bird. I heard another chirp and a few more whistles. The birds seemed to be as plentiful as thistles.

Listening to their beautiful song, I realized what I had done wrong. The people who fight in wars and die, they do it for reasons nobler than I. For many they step up with courage so brave, fighting so their people they might save. A fool and a coward had I been, to not have seen such miraculous men.

Those men are like...

Crimson cardinals, flying along, singing a tune to an uplifting song...
© Copyright 2007 Squeakyjam (squeakyjam at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1237170-Crimson-Cardinals