Trench Monologue

As I was sitting in the trench, there were a million things going through my mind. I had so many thoughts, I questioned myself, why am I here? Why do I have to go through all this? Even though shots were fired with deafening sounds, the only thing I could hear at that moment was my thoughts and the sorrow that came with it. I miss everyone and everything I had, I missed how things used to be. It’s 22:37pm and all I could remember was the look my mother gave me the day I left, her eyes were filled with tears, her hands were so cold just as she was holding mine, and right when I step a foot out of the door, she burst into tears and so did I, and all of a sudden an air of melancholy surrounded us. It’s been almost 8 months since I left but I

Never have I felt so lonely and broken, I realised what I did was a mistake I shouldn’t have ever left home. I can never look at things the same way as how I used to, everything’s so different, I never thought I’d say this, how can there be so many human but so little humanity? These people are heartless! Whilst I sat in the trench, though everything was chaotic and a mess, all the things that I been through since I left my home came running through my mind like a flash of light; my beautiful mother and my brothers though not by blood but by heart. I will never forget how God took my brothers’ lives, brutal and cold-blooded. I questioned myself how can God let this happen, killed so brutally, and as if their lives mean nothing to anyone anymore. I began to visualise those things which I wouldn’t but I was unable to suppress my thoughts as I in a war. Everything falls apart as soon as I thought it fell in the right place, images swirled in my mind and soon my heart was dedicated to a small piece of art that meant something to

When the explosives actuated they seemed to fly in the thin air and die as if they were a bunch of ants being stepped on in just a blink of an eye. Neither one of the death was thoughtful. No funeral neither any solemness shown towards the pride of the country. Just then a thought triggered about how unsympathetic animals we have become that we are the least torment about the death of our fellow soldiers who fought for years to protect us. I was so traumatised by the thought that I started to visualise about my old life as a civilian, where even the sinful person used to get a respectful funeral and sympathetic goodbyes. But now, while we go through this quick, meaningless and messy war; one dies after the other, witnessing each of their peers’ spirits travelling to the heaven slowly and gradually. Once again, I had a perception of a death which was solicitous as if God was nonexistent as if humans were born to slaughter each other, no prayers were to be brought up upon their pity souls. We may be carrying fear in our hands, never were we to kill intentionally, the truths were written in our eyes. We were not forced or contemplated to fight back but we had no other option left. Things back home were left unsaid, our loved ones will never move on in their lives, never shall