Ode to Battle

April 25, 2012
By Anonymous

The sounds of distant artillery call me
Beckoning me from sleep.
My quiet heart wakes to a jolt of adrenaline.
The pound of my heart now competes with the sound of mortars.
Percussions within and without compete for attention.
The velocity of war I have waited for.
The ballistic bullets fly to heavens born on wings.
My ears are dulled with repetitive explosions.

My dreams have changed.
War is not glorious.

The author's comments:
People dream of war but don't realize how devastating war truly is.

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