a separate-but-together quality
while he loved her so much,
he tasted phantom jealousy.
War is odds and ends
a swallowed up feeling
Why so sad? Why so lonely?
War is flat and uninvolved
a shot in the head
a swollen black bruise
the guy is dead
War is without morals
they burned everything
trashed villages, slashing
trying not to cry
War is thick and wet
like cement
a warm dense fog
the stillness that precedes the rain
seemingly hollow and unattached
War is fatigue
a floating feeling, stiff muscles
down and dead
War is a silent awe for the terrible power
of being filthy but alive
trashed villages, slashing
trying not to cry
War is thick and wet
like cement
a warm dense fog
the stillness that precedes the rain
seemingly hollow and unattached
War is fatigue
a floating feeling, stiff muscles
down and dead
War is a silent awe for the terrible power
of being filthy but alive
I enjoyed how well each line flowed into the next; rather than a set of broken ideas, you maintained O'Brien's voice even through the rearrangement of the statements.
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