Category: Writers Block
the vissions begin.
Veteran remains.
blood everywhere.
bodies barely recognizable.
the same sceen plays over and over in his head.
The frantic search begins, looking for his team.
everything's a ghost town. no one left but malnurished dogs feasting on the rotting remains of corpses long dead.
and then he sees it. A wolf. the same wolf.
the wolf comes closer, as the yong veteran brings his rifle around.
but then ten more apper.
One bit his knee! damn, they probably have an infection.
he shoots.
Shit, the rifle's jammed. He swing it at the wolves whith all the force he can muster.
He is barely conscious... Someone is picking him up... someone with a cigar. Could it be the general? Naaah, he thinks as he hears shotgun bullets fired.
He slips awa for a little while.
I thought it was longer...
Away is spelled incorrectly.
Anyhow, I love how vivid this poem is. It makes me think of a story I once read about this teenage guy who was embarrassed about his dad's ptsd because he would have flashbacks in public.