The Killing Never Left Him

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As the spade bit into virgin earth
Spilling the rich red dirt forth
He wondered at the likeness
To the last time he’d killed a man

Ten years prior, and only a moment past
His machine gun rattle had ended
And so had the poor fools life
Someone poor and bereft taken from this earth

Somehow he’d kept his sanity
Somehow he’d kept his name
The people of this world he knew
Would destroy it all in vain

The peace had come on forcibly
Do this or end as well
He wondered at the irony
Of peace’s knelling bell

So the spade chewed up the deep red earth
And his mind it churned and tumbled
And every single night he slept
With his nightmares softly mumbled

The killing had never left him
Despite all that he’d done
Everything he’d seen here
Proved the war was never won

The spade hit stone as he realised
He’d been digging all damn day
The hole too deep for tree roots
He’d need to fill some other way

It was then that the poor man realised
He’d finally dug his own grave
The ten years spent in exile
Time to build up his brave

And so he took his weapon
And knew just what to do
The killing never left him
As it won’t with you

New short stories available now at Amazon via Five59 Publishing.

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