Those Birds Tumble Through the Sky on Broken Wings Amidst Crackling Thunder
The soldier had always hoped his last moments would be spent among friends and family, a full and honest life lived. No one wants to die alone, and no one wants to be forgotten. There is a catharsis in legacy, an unacknowledged pride which we can only pretend to ignore. Instead, far from home, he dragged himself through mud and rain, where red eddied into brown, and his bones began their return to the earth. Boys will kill, men will profit, and we have heard this story before. War is man’s folly, and unfathomable suffering is the price we pay. These things we know to be true, and truth is the only reminder of humanity when all else has been goose-stepped into the trenches, given a gun, and told to kill. It is not worth restating the obvious.
