The Death Of My Life - 1355 Words

The mudded earth grasps at my martial boots. Perspiration seeps from my grimy pores. The humid air slithers across my skin. My palpitating heart aches from the adrenaline. Our offense under the shadow of the night we made has been counteracted. The German roaches fire their weapons, illuminating no man’s land with cones of ugly light - revealing the lakes of crimson, the bottomless pits, the wandering limbs, the grey sleepers – all of it. The contorted screams of my wounded comrades fall past me as I run. I see a wounded man praying. A futility. The gods are indifferent to our suffering. As we are the tainted souls – their forsaken children - sentenced to flaming nights and grey days that inscribe themselves into the mind. And if†¦show more content†¦Thus, I do not dare leave the confines of this shell hole. I no longer hear the steps of my comrades, the gunfire becomes sparse and a relative placidity takes no man’s land. Though I dare not move. As I can feel the roaches’ eyes scan across this barren cemetery, looking for any movement, for any signs of consciousness. The nauseating moans of the dying pervade the stagnant air. Eventually becoming fewer and fewer with time. begin to feel disoriented, physically feeble, cold; as if I can see myself in the reflection of death’s scythe. I shiver. I feel a dreaded moisture on my arm. Where I lay a nightly liquid, tugs at the arm of my martial coat. It cannot be. A piercing pain cements itself, and my body convulses in agony. It’s gushing from my stomach – I have been wounded. I feel it rising. My mouth becomes a cesspool of blood; and I struggle not to drown in it. - Vibrant birds sing their elegant melodies. The boughs and branches of the old oak tree sway to and fro in the spring breeze, and the sun beams through it’s vacuous gaps – filling the living room of my father’s apartment with oscillating lights and elegant shades. Below us the hustling of the crowded streets can be heard. The torrent of consciousness, they walk to and from, each characterised with different memories, thoughts, and attitudes. The sugary scent of freshly picked cherry blossoms, and baked sweets permeates the room. The estate isShow MoreRelatedThe Death Of My Life Essay2144 Words   |  9 Pageshave to face death in my life until I was an adult in college and when I did, it was the expected death of my maternal grandmother after years of living with Alzheimer’s. We knew her health was declining and when she went into hospice in her final weeks, I was able to take time off school to see her one last time. She died about a week later. At the time I knew I was lucky to be able to visit and say my goodbyes, even if she didn’t know who I was. That visit was cathartic for both my mom and me butRead MoreMy View Of Life After Death1232 Words   |  5 Pageswill determine your life after death. 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