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Tormented

A crude soul remained, of a life of a hero silent but brave. Tormented with dreams of days 
gone past, tormented of lives of whose destiny didn’t surpass.  It wasn’t a gun or a knife that 
altered his way; it was the reckless humanitarian way. To watch kids as hard as veterans to 
watch a country broke but resilient and brave. This changed the mindset of a selfish man this 
changed the outlook, of a spiteful man, a man trying to survive the darkest desires of a sick 
spiteful way. Not murder but genocide, not ethnic cleansing but a deviant sick mindset of a 
twisted soul, breaded out to an unsuspecting nation. A nation without a goal but bloody 
violence, in its toll.

 How I long to see him there, standing toe to toe with those who are left reeling with they’re 
despair. 

The torture remained taking innocence along in its way, taking lives filling graves all for the 
name which, the deviance betrayed. To be human the soul remains, when tortured and 
beaten beyond repair, how can a soul remain. How can they stand tall when all that is left is 
an empty black hole, with memories which once were good, all turning sour as they knew 
they would, ruining life in such a sick violent way. I see those tortured souls, not giving up 
not letting go. They are in his dreams they are in his past hopefully this felling of hurt will 
succumb and not last.

Civil unrest remains in the heart, not in soul.
 How I wish to see them there, unarmed and afraid, the same way they left the innocent who 
remained, left in the darkest coldest of days in a country so broke but so brave.

 

Sleep well tonight for you hold the flag of your country, in your eyes, power of all nations in 
your arms, for you we salute our proudest day, it was not what we done but what you gave, 
this honour and resilience is what made you all so brave.
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