war
-
In war, you wear two faces—casualty, survivor. In peace, only one remains, and it weighs heavier. Pain drifts in—neither enemy nor friend,a shadow castby the flickering lamp of existence. A war without armies,fought in silence,where each breath is deathand resurrection. The lungs whisper, why?No answer comes. Eyes in the dark—promising nothing,searching endlesslyfor the fracture that
-
Field PostcardFrance, 17 October 1917POSTMARK: 21st Battalion, Ypres SalientCENSORED: PASSED BY A.E.F. FIELD CENSOR 143 L— We go over at dawn. Our trenches hold like promises made in fear, shallow, desperate, and already broken. I keep low, but death hums overhead. If this is the end, and often it nearly is, know this: I thought
BB Grey--musings 