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The POW's PoemThe night swallows my breath,
I hide the scars of age with these bangs,
My breath slow and quiet,
My hope all but preposterous idiocy.
I hide the pain behind the glass,
Of a fine bottle of Jack Daniels.
Give me not your sympathy,
But only your ear.
Hear me out,
As all will be revealed.
I pray you understand,
My simple, somber words.
I stayed behind in a land,
Comprised of mines,
Rifles, and warfare.
No one knew my war was true,
No one knew what a warrior has been through.
It took me longer than you ever knew,
To heal the pain of my own mind.
I stayed behind in 97,
After indoctrination by the enemy.
I stayed allied with him till 99,
When his betraying hand had imprisoned me.
I cried for help,
But thus, there was no answer.
I needed aid,
But if only they had helped me.
I lay sadly underneath the ground,
Believing that life was still a part of me,
Until the one I hated,
I was down beneath,
Atop a thousand corpses,
I couldnt cry,
And yet I never wondered
The Great Hatarime Chapter 2-3Chapter 2: The Polokai-Darkos Clan
Belthezech looked down at the writhing human. His agony was almost like a delicacy. The human was now babbling in devilish tongues. The beating and supply of energy would hopefully convert him soon enough. He was supposed to be a Pure Alchemist however.
I see that Arcadius has been giving him a handful. Belthezech smiled and sneered to a lower Darkos operative. Belthezech held in his hand a book of sadistic practices on how to obtain information, especially from supposed Pure Alchemists.
Lets see, lets try I-37.
The bind and rip technique? Paleri, a sub-class demon from the 15th class spoke very high-pitched for a demonic entity. It was almost above a human soprano which persisted to annoy Belthezech almost to the point of self-mutilation.
Yes, Paleri. Belthezech was getting less temperate with him already.
How do we know he will not die? Paleris voice uttered that same high
21 ClapsMy hopes were deflated,
As I heard the wailing mourners cry,
I stood, front-center,
And carved my initials inside.
He was a soldier,
Thus was he my brother,
So I commanded him,
And I made him whole.
I knew his sister,
Her name was Sarah Krisler,
And I wished she had not been given this bane.
For the harm in her poise,
And the sound of her voice,
Sounded louder than those
21 Claps ever did.
I heard her sound,
So loud and clear,
But my face was forced taut
The metal box in which he was in,
The consequence of presidential sin,
The war he was laid for,
Now lies death for us all.
I heard the wailing mourners cry,
I never slept worse any other night,
And Ive been fighting the urge to
Lie beside him.
He was pride and honor put in a box,
With fabric wrapped tightly around.
He was a soldier,
Thus he was a warrior,
And I pray he sleeps in peace
How It Began"God, your two o'clock is here."
"I have a two o'clock?"
"He's been here since 7:45. I figured it's only polite to... sir."
God sighed. "Fine, send him in."
While He waited God cleared His desk of papers and blueprints; no need for outsiders to see His plans. Soon enough the door to His office opened and God stood, smiled, held out a hand towards one of the two visitor's chairs.
"God! Great stuff you're doing in sector 2-7-0! Great stuff!"
The man's hands were clammy, his handshake limp. Rumpled suit, porkpie hat, briefcase... oh Jes-- oh dear, a salesman. God's smile slipped a little but He soldiered on gamely. With luck He could shoo the poor guy away in a few minutes.
"So, what can I do for you?"
The man sat, briefcase across his knees. "Sector 2-7-0! Everyone's talking about it! What do you call it? Man and merman?"
"Man and woman, actually. And thanks. But we're pretty busy around here, and..."
"Oh! Right! No time for the wicked, eh?" The salesman winked and popped his briefcase,
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