Find your next favourite story now
Login

13+
Destruction

2
2 Comments 2
1.5k Views 1.5k
57 words 57 words
Ratta tat tat,
the gunshots fire.
The smell of flesh
from a burning pyre.

A bloody spray
tints the mist.
A dead man clenches
his cold, white fist.

The cost of honour
is stained red hands,
the mental burden
of killing a man.

Ratta tat tat,
the gunshots sound,
and every last soldier
is on the ground.
Published 
Written by TheBittenBlade
Loved the story?
Show your appreciation by tipping the author!

Get Free access to these great features

  • Create your own custom Profile
  • Share your imaginative stories with the community
  • Curate your own reading list and follow authors
  • Enter exclusive competitions
  • Chat with like minded people
  • Tip your favourite authors

Comments