Battle ground
War ends with whimpers, not banging; as the guns expelled the soldiers expired, a soft sighing in the wind, the carrion caravans crawl home and the government grovels prodigal before its divine congregation.
War ends with whimpers, not banging; as the guns expelled the soldiers expired, a soft sighing in the wind, the carrion caravans crawl home and the government grovels prodigal before its divine congregation.
Sarah Cuming :
03 Oct 2009 23:05
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Tags: Creative Writing Prose Thoughts
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