Spared

quietly we waited for the dawn attack,

silently hiding within the refuge of the

dark, lonely night,

sleep was impossible as we tried

to hang on to every minute,

every second,

knowing they would likely be

our last,

on the other side,

the enemy waited also,

just as afraid,

just as unsure,

soon it would be us or them,

kill or be killed,

for most this would be the

last day on earth;

many openly wept,

remembering mothers and fathers,

sisters and wives,

brothers and children,

I saw the face of my wife,

as she had looked before

the war,

before the madness,

before the chaos,

before the hatred,

sweet and serene,

I was glad she had died

early,

being spared the emptiness

of what we had now become,

the monsters we had all been

reduced to,

capable of any cruelty,

living only for death and revenge,

reflections of what had

once been human;

I was glad she had been spared.

.

.