The boy sighed his last peaceful breath.
Gentle breeze of thought dissipates,
No future, no death.
Appearing again as a raging storm,
remembering all he had to mourn.
The battle is now in the heart of France,
The world twirling in a furious dance.
Too join the resistance for country and all,
to face a future to lose
as the earth crumbles and falls.
Or
Protect the heart from events to come.
To safeguard their dread,
Children, wife, home as one.
Decision is the Fates torture.
The dead weight of a crossroad.
The undying agony of or.
A catch 22,
with so much to lose.
Too either I can devote.
Not thinking, just doing,
near or remote.
The terror that paralyzes every bone.
It’s all on you,
The conclusion is on you alone.
Flames red and gold,
Roar as the lions of old.
The depths of hades is in front,
the lives to save inside.
I push the hose aside and leap after the need.
The burnt wood is crying as it breaks.
I see a family in despair,
but a few heartbreaking children over there.
I can only save one.
Family is shouting for help,
Crying comfort to each.
Their lives as one in my hands,
Their lives I might drop.
Or
Children silent, pale in the overwhelming light.
Still to grow into the skin that they own and
the mind they may lose.
Decision is the Fates torture.
The dead weight of a crossroad.
The undying agony of or.
A catch 22,
with so much to lose.
Too either I can devote.
Not thinking, just doing,
near or remote.
The terror that paralyzes every bone.
It’s all on you,
The conclusion is on you alone.
Seeing the full plate,
destined for the trash.
It is consuming her,
Bones are stark through the stretched skin.
Smaller, angrier, quieter, thin.
Realizing that I see,
Deathly silence beginning,
Worst of words uttered.
“I promise.”
Friendship, a ray of shine through the cloud.
No interference, just time and me, to heal.
It could not.
A life not worth living,
stolen under a protective grasp.
Or
Help, health, a guarantee.
To open her mind
Forced, but future she will find.
But me she will blame,
Me pushed away in forever jab.
I would break my promise.
Decision is the Fates torture.
The dead weight of a crossroad.
The undying agony of or.
A catch 22,
with so much to lose.
Too either I can devote.
Not thinking, just doing,
near or remote.
The terror that paralyzes every bone.
It’s all on you,
The conclusion is on you alone.
The decision is the scare,
The choice is the agony.
Before is confusion,
After is instinct.
Time stands still,
Every ripple in the black swamp of terror,
Every thought, every second of indecision,
is another world on your back.
The weight suffocates you,
Questioning yourself on how you will survive
Until the choice is made and the path illuminated before you.
