Wounded Warrior

Piercing pain, beyond all imagination tortured his senses

The reality of today, became as blurred as ever

Crying the names of saints, eternals above, but no help would reach the poor creature

Curled on the cold floors of isolation, pleading for the hurting to stop

Seconds of suffering seemed like an hour or so, all he could do was to stay still and let the whips terrorize his weak and tired form

The agony looked as if it had eaten up its prey to the bones, so it left.

Silence and light filled the air of fear; he understood there was still hope.

Exhausted, he crawled and grasped blindly, forcing his frail legs to rise

Knowing he was safe, he stopped all his struggles and lay his cracked cranium on the hard ground.

Tears was shed, sweat were wasted and reality had been distorted

But at least the strong assurance that the enemy would not come back for a very long time

Was a happy thought for the Wounded Warrior.

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