|Deviant Login||Shop||Join deviantART for FREE||Take the Tour|
The real terror is 2001The real terror is
that people are still
killing other people
My brother and eldest sister came home covered in dust.
Don't turn back.
You know what those thuds are:
The sounds of
bodies falling and
Don't look on the ground.
You know what is there:
Scattered remains of
a red high heel,
a leather briefcase blown open,
a clutching arm.
Don't scream out.
Everyone is screaming.
No one can hear your cries.
All you will get is
a mouth full of ashes.
Don't breathe in this dust.
You know what it is:
Just keep walking.
This is Kosovo.
This is Auschwitz.
This is Rome.
This is Babylon.
This is a war.
Where are my co-workers?
"Excuse me miss, you have to leave. There isn't enough air in our building for you, and our employees."
Good thing flower-girl didn't take that job on the 88th floor of the wtc.
She had to be unemployed for five months after college, but
she didn't want to get stuck in that skyscraper in case of a f
Somewhere, Babylon 2006Somewhere,
at the existential Taco Bell of your
an Iraqi palace lined with
American fast food places, latrines, marines,
Once there were roof top gardens,
now there is double scoop chocolate ice cream with rainbow sprinkles.
The molecules of milk roll so easily over and against each soldier's tongue.
So far from home, it's the only thing to remind you of suckling at your mother's teat.
In a land where jasmine scented waters once wafted into the air,
are now broken sewages for the lay person.
They said they were there to save the children,
instead weapons of mass seduction were forced between parched lips.
Where are we now?
There is nothing Green here, there are only more SUVs.
The mercenaries drive these beasts,
burning with the slick remains of fossilized extinction,
hauling cargo of three kinds of cheese,
pepperoni, and canned tomato sauce.
A trek over paved roads can be more volatile than
traveling though an isolated dune at midday.
Vanguard, Chapter 1: DuncanDuncan's Journal: Day 1288
I consider myself a good man. I respect women, elders, my equals, and the dead. I say a morning prayer, and an evening one. Hell, I even thank the gods for a meal, instead of immediately chowing down in the voracious manner as the other soldiers here do. By all logical means, I should be in paradise. No really, not just because I'm a good man, but also because I should be dead by now. So I ask myself: why, oh gods up there, have I ended up in hell?
1288 days. 1288 days of my life have been spent in this misery, and I'm beginning to lose faith in the glory I was promised. Some of the rookies still live in their ignorant bliss, but I've lived long enough to realize that there's not much glory to find here. “Sing the songs of glory and march into battle—-join The Crusade today!”. Such were the words of the posters The Crusade has spread all over The Mortal Realm. Gullible fools practically stand in line for these songs of glory that th
Keep in Touch!
^Nyx-Valentine arrived in our community and started whipping everyone into a frenzy with her relentless desire to bring the Artistic Nude and Fetish galleries to the fore. 9 years later, and it's safe to say that Nyx is not only a leader as a photographer in these galleries, but she has also established herself as a much saught after model. ^... Read More