He Ran

He ran.

Until he saw no road, he ran.

Until there were no people to be seen.

Until there were no people he could see.

 

He ran.

Until his lungs cried out, he ran.

Until his breath was heavy and his legs started burning.

Until his head felt light and his heart stopped burning.

 

He ran.

Until it pleased him, he ran.

Until his sole wore out.

Until his soul wore out.

 

He ran.

Until he saw the sunset, he ran.

Until he could see the sun touch the ground.

Until he could feel himself off the ground.

 

He ran.

Until he fell apart, he ran.

Until the cold breeze could freeze him.

Until the cold of his people couldn’t reach him.

 

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My First Kill

 

Yes, I shot him. He was after all an enemy, wasn’t he?

I asked myself, am I inhuman for doing my job?

I looked into his eyes, they were moist.

Probably remembering his wife and kids back home, remembering those moments which led him to choose the path that resulted in his death.

So, I asked myself again, am I inhuman for depriving a child of her father, for depriving a wife of her husband?

I looked around and saw mutilated bodies; some were of friends’, some of strangers’.

So, I wondered, would this be my fate too?

All I know is, I’m a soldier and I have to kill and die for my country.