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we all hold on to what ties us together like a rope made out of our fate. one by one we are cut off from each others company, and the piece of rope that was left with me is no longer useful, for it is tied to no one but myself. i saw them all running as if the idea to escape had always lingered in their minds, but i was unaware of where to go. the battle that surrounded me was like the madness we all feel at some point in time. the feilds become angry with guns and the air poisoned by fumes. i became a part of this madness. i was a single drop of blood in this body of war. i was a movement that rippled through the scenery. i never got out. a soldier's body is a treasure, protected or stolen, always targeted. bullets are sprinkled upon faces like morning rain. one hits me through the back waking a part of me i never knew existed. i lay in the field facing east. my eyes shifted towards the light that defined morning as time began to decay into a perfect still. i was the calm of the storm created from a circle of destruction. my last breath was like a precious jewel. the rarest. i fell asleep in a mist of war; yet, i had never felt more at peace.