The haunting moonlight rivets in the mist- a rocking motion over the troubled waters residing below this bridge. My vision is fogged as bombs square themselves over the breaking destination. Frayed and shattered triangles of glass spread themselves over the graciously paved streets, their breaking-point leaving an echo in the quiet night- the once quiet night.
Gunshots spread themselves mere inches away from skulls as they penetrate through their rapid pace amongst the crowds within the scene. Screams taunt my imagination and seep into the channel of my brain containing previous remembrances of these events. And I do nothing but own the title of the bearer of these events.
My men, my thieves, send themselves into the settlement, silently stalking the innocent, dragging them into their personal war. Tortured bodies lay sprawled on the cobblestone and we dance merrily around them as though nothing has occurred- as though the sun will simply rise again in the morning; as though everything will remain the same.
"Papa...no! Not my porcelain doll! Don't let them take it!" The young child broke into a fit of sobs as a man, one of my men, snatched the young girl's doll from about her arms. And he laughed. Spat in her face and laughed. And once again, I did not prevent it. Golden jewels lay centered on my head, rings encircled about my fingers, highly adorned with diamonds. And encumbrance of riches overpowered me. Weeping figures surrounded me further. Lives had ended- both in physical and emotional ways. But I whisper the reassuring words that help me make it through every time. "The fortune of one man means less for some."
Gunshots spread themselves mere inches away from skulls as they penetrate through their rapid pace amongst the crowds within the scene. Screams taunt my imagination and seep into the channel of my brain containing previous remembrances of these events. And I do nothing but own the title of the bearer of these events.
My men, my thieves, send themselves into the settlement, silently stalking the innocent, dragging them into their personal war. Tortured bodies lay sprawled on the cobblestone and we dance merrily around them as though nothing has occurred- as though the sun will simply rise again in the morning; as though everything will remain the same.
"Papa...no! Not my porcelain doll! Don't let them take it!" The young child broke into a fit of sobs as a man, one of my men, snatched the young girl's doll from about her arms. And he laughed. Spat in her face and laughed. And once again, I did not prevent it. Golden jewels lay centered on my head, rings encircled about my fingers, highly adorned with diamonds. And encumbrance of riches overpowered me. Weeping figures surrounded me further. Lives had ended- both in physical and emotional ways. But I whisper the reassuring words that help me make it through every time. "The fortune of one man means less for some."