quietly we waited for the dawn attack,
silently hiding within the refuge of the
dark, lonely night,
sleep 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,
never knowing 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.
.
.
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