DeletedUser
Guest
*Just trying to bring back some creativity, join in if you want*
What does war bring? Death? Destruction? Loss? Pain? War brings all these things, for with war comes the cold hard reality that Life, in truth is cruel.
However what else does war bring? Hope, change, rebirth of old, and the creation of, new ideals. Like a two sided sword War brings both Pain and Hope. Life and Death. Destruction and Creation. These facts are true, for any war. I belive this to be true without war, Life would end.
Nether sat at the small table, candle light dancing wildly on the ceiling. His bloodshot eyes watched lazily as a numb finger traced a knot in the wood next to his tankard. His breathing was shallowed as his thoughts worked thier way through his mind. Scenero after scenero played before his unfocused eyes.
He smirked as he shoved the tankard to the floor, its contents spreading slowy accross the dirty planks.
Anger, it was an emotion he knew and wore well. In the past it fueled him. Kept him alive in situations where he should have tasted the blade and sent to the hell he thought he had escaped.
He knew better now, he never escaped. His prison now was this shell of flesh and blood, and he was doomed to an eternity in its cruel fleshy embrace.
His dazed eyes flashed dimly as he snuffed out the candle. Dust fell from the ceiling as another battering ram tried his door.
He closed his eyes, let them come, gods willing let them come and release me from this place, this body, this hell.
What does war bring? Death? Destruction? Loss? Pain? War brings all these things, for with war comes the cold hard reality that Life, in truth is cruel.
However what else does war bring? Hope, change, rebirth of old, and the creation of, new ideals. Like a two sided sword War brings both Pain and Hope. Life and Death. Destruction and Creation. These facts are true, for any war. I belive this to be true without war, Life would end.
Nether sat at the small table, candle light dancing wildly on the ceiling. His bloodshot eyes watched lazily as a numb finger traced a knot in the wood next to his tankard. His breathing was shallowed as his thoughts worked thier way through his mind. Scenero after scenero played before his unfocused eyes.
He smirked as he shoved the tankard to the floor, its contents spreading slowy accross the dirty planks.
Anger, it was an emotion he knew and wore well. In the past it fueled him. Kept him alive in situations where he should have tasted the blade and sent to the hell he thought he had escaped.
He knew better now, he never escaped. His prison now was this shell of flesh and blood, and he was doomed to an eternity in its cruel fleshy embrace.
His dazed eyes flashed dimly as he snuffed out the candle. Dust fell from the ceiling as another battering ram tried his door.
He closed his eyes, let them come, gods willing let them come and release me from this place, this body, this hell.