Tormented

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.