Harrowing Grave

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: War and Military  |  House: Booksie Classic
Civil war in Monrovia.

Submitted: March 27, 2007

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Submitted: March 27, 2007



Harrowing G r a v e

A barrel missing from a sniper.

Resting on the stone paved ground.

Move above the barrel,

Move below the barrel,

What do you see?

Oh my!...is that, wait...those are bullet casings.

Three inch bullet casings scattered across the ground.

Gleaming with golden lustre against the water-polished ground.

It has rained.

It has rained copious bullet casings.

Loyalist militiamen and rebels in Monrovia.

Caption questions, "Who will stop the killings?"

White boldness for the first three words.

"The killings"?

For they are an eye-gripping gray.

Resting on a black backdrop.

Bang, bang, bang...

Somewhere behind the empty bazaar,

Bullets fire out in constant velocity.

Casings clang to the ground.

The wood and tin of the bazaar stalls shrink and darken...

Yearning for what should be.

What should be a busy road with shoppers bargaining for spices, bananas and such.

Not a soul in sight...

just casings lying amid this solemn silence...SPLASH!

Pitter and patter!

A militiaman moves amidst this harrowing g r a v e.

Dressed in yellow and black,

He clears across like a scurrying mouse.

Bandana wet from moisture.

Eyes alienated by fierce focus, ears on guard and alert.

Heavy duty boots on his feet,

And a duct-taped rifle gun in arms.

The rifle has suffered and does so from the gripping force in his hands.

Suffering from the separation of bullets and casings and spraying death.

Move soldier!

The bazaar is already cleaned of any life.

Give it what it yearns for!

The regular hustle and bustle of shoppers.

But no, there is doubt that lingers in the air,

And doubt that whispers in this militiaman's ear.

But his ears ignore the solemn silence that questions,

"Who will stop the killings?"

He scans for safe cover and navigates for human voice

...with a rifle in hand.

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