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Vengeful Ghosts
Current mood:
miserable
From the patrol base we go, lock and load. young warriors are led by the old. In the dark of night ready for a fight we move brave and bold.
The sun begins to rise and with it comes dangers. The waking enemy can see the intruders, we unwelcomed strangers.
The streets were clear and we could hear nothing more than the wind. Our feet shifted over dirt and stones walking into a fight about to begin.
We were near a graveyard with simple stones and flying death-flags. Wading through desert plants while our pockets on thorns did snag.
It began with a boom and morning tracers flying over head. And now we kneel behind gravestones fighting for our lives above the dead.
We traded rounds a rocket was fired and many of the stones fell. Disrespecting their rest and doing our best to defeat this flash of hell.
Reloading now with my knee upon the bed of the dead. We did not think about the price now on our heads.
No bounty placed by mere men but by those vengeaful ghosts. Something must have followed me back and made my efforts it’s host.
As things fall apart now and nothing works out, it’s strange for me to ponder... of the battle over graves on which we had wandered.
Angry dead, go in peace no trespass was meant. But with this request it seems unheard and the dead hell-bent.
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