6 August 2012

A Narration : The Words for he himself

There was a man who was overtly so eager and devoured  to the smell of belligerent  and  to live for the sake of legacy to stand a chance for becoming a world legend, at least for his own country. Dulce Et Decorum Est! Dulce Et Decorum Est! An arrogant whirl of voice is slowly shacking a mind of a child. He had to bend double, walking like an old beggars under the sack of hunger, pride and everlasting peace. Sludge face he was, bitter tears just for “no mercy “ to their on back. No mercy on him. Tired and sleepless soul, they marched all over the others’ dreams. Hang on, it is an universal dream. The boy had lost his boot while marching over the other’s dream. Bare foot and "naked" face are just plain to him. He was thinking only his mother and the unborn child he had with his newly bride.  The dreaming of those imagers seems to be a candy that made him joy and ecstasy. Losing his grasp of strength and  focusing was his unfortunate fate.  The last words he may heard were“ Gas! Gas! Quick Boy, bend your knee lower, you are not die for this. At least not tonight or even today!”

He was just couldn’t resist to move forward with a blurry sight.  He was half suffocated with the GAS of the death. All were Green as in a green sea. He was no longer capable to yell for  help. Even as if he is calling his man next to him. He lost his hoots for his knight in shining armor. Over the flare of the Green Sea,  he gulped down his breath with fatigue, as if he had whiskey on his breath.  I was numb for what I have seen. I couldn’t make a single protest to what was happening in front of me. I couldn’t think straight. It was a shame for me to have all these so called incurable states.  In all of my dreams with my helpless sight, he was plunged he himself to a point that I can see him clearly guttering, choking and drowning with anger, frustration and dying. The jolt of blood came from corrupted lung, slowly kills him and his white eyes blink faster as them could. Man, dying is too much to handle. He died of  the vile of innocent tongues at the same time  he died when he was in the battle of the live. For god’s sake he was only 25!  There he was. He was just a death body that we flung to the wagon of hell. No longer mercy on him yet just a glory  in his right hand. To this, he made he himself as a token of peace and everlasting life, at least to he him self.

To all my friends and children,  War is not something that is  for one hope. Just remember that. It is for a whole world which will be carried over one generation to another. It is not just a remembrance state for every one of us and we celebrate it for with a fake hoot along with irresistible entertainment.  Post War is something that  is colored in blue. It is a day like we are standing in front of a funeral to whom was/were lost in the battle of the glory. We mourned yet we proud of their glory. Without them, we were nothing for today. Let’s share this “everlasting life and peace”. Selamat hari kemerdekaan, people. Say what me mean. Put a true  and humanity sense in each of the words or phrases we carried  while shouting the tag line. An honest weight on it, at least. Re-tell the truth of the state to the next generation so all warriors are not die in the vile of tongues as well as no old lies of  death for the truth of war chaos that  is begotten to the new generation . It should no longer "Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori"

A tribute to one of my favorite poems- Dulce Et Decorum Est, by Wilfred Owen.


Written By: Josh