Unclear Path

The fatal explosions integrating never once did fail to send a deafening pulse through the soldiers ears. The battlefield was a deathly arena with gunfire and the smell of rotting corpses left with a war-cry face on them. With the patterned clicks of guns, and the insidious crackle of hidden land mines, enfolding in a column of death and smoke its petrified prize. The smoke obscured the enemy trenches in the distance, a strange aggressive language spouted out, but became quiet as they were granted an eternal rest.

All members of the platoon had smiles trailed across their lips, however, their grins abandoned them as a company of the enemy emerged from the far mist. The fog obscured them seeing the reality.The cackle of the machine-gun in the pillbox burst into life.

Bullets whistling by, hitting men and dirt alike, covering the sludgy ground in a red liquid.

The sounds of the platoon being killed off was a mellifluous noise to the soldiers in grey.

Quietness took a hold of the land, except for the cry of painful agony. The symphony of sounds seamlessly morphing into a ridiculous melody: one of laments and agony, its harsh sounds imbuing the shredded landscape. With a nightmarish quality. My tortured senses protest, their cries of indignation lost amidst the clamour of soldiers, rigid in place, their minds and bodies slowly succumbing to the inevitability of death.

Silence hung over the area, besides the ghostly wind hovering over them, haunting the soldiers.The soldiers had a heart of stone.

The commander gave a signal to his battle-weary troops to retreat.

But then, as the soldiers in grey were about to fall-back, they saw the enemy pounce out of the fog like hungry wolves. With all guns blazing, the reinforcements charged at their enemies.The sounds of battle began again as the cold rain started, ­making the field more hazy.The enemy gun fire was fading as more troops were overtaking the enemy lines.

A scene of total devastation was left at the end of the battle. The battlefield blazes, a crimson sea, now, filled with wails and moans of the wounded. Soon, it is to disappear into the foggy air, the sound of machine guns deafens the city, and the vapor of the evil still hovers till the sun, forever, sets. Nightmares to blossom like an ugly, poisonous rose, tearful memories to linger in innocent hearts and souls, and the oblivion of this bloody war will always live. Soon, the sinking Titanic, to be, forever, gone and forgotten.They were drowning in the sea of darkness. When you start you have a box of chocolates. When your done all you have is a bunch of empty wrappers.