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a poem
Pertaining to the painting, “The Battle of Gibraltar” by Cornelis Claesz van Wieringen
Marines scamper across the deck, veering away from the tremendous collision upon the starboard bow.
Spruce and Oak crack as the timbers tear, splintering entire lengths of wood onto the ships.
“All hands, abandon ship!” the captain bellows as the situation clearly becomes out of control; “We should live to fight another day!” he proceeds.
The previously serene waters are scattered with the scars of battle; the remnants of a once mighty navy, engulfed in flame.
Hundreds of wooden behemoths provide a morbid backdrop, with similar situations occurring in every bout.
To any third-person observer, the horrors of war become immediately apparent, entire companies disappearing every minute.
Every man’s history, his effort, his faith, his undeniable loyalty, his life, seem to mean nothing at the pull of a trigger. It’s just that easy, too easy.
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