Only One and All Alone

Here I am

Alone again

Without a soul

To make me whole.

I'm not good in poetry. Or anything at all. Just another soldier writing his heart out in this journal given to him a long time ago but never touched until now. This must be the last time I suffer through such a heartbreak. I should learn from my mistakes shouldn't I? But humans are all the same. Repeating mistakes that have been done a thousand times. Why make the same mistakes when there are so many new ones to commit? Human nature that's why. Written all over the bloody history of our planet.  Maybe one day we'll learn. But I don't think that day will ever come. It will only come when the sun turns black. But I'm not writing to state all the flaws of mankind. I'm here to write about my story. The way they broke my life.

   It was just last year when I met her. Beautiful in the morning sunlight, like a rose starting to bloom. At a small little cafe in Little Whinging, I introduced myself. She smiled and chatted back pleasantly. As if we had known each other for a long time and were just catching up. It started slowly but soon became something, a connection like never before. Unlike the previous women in my life, she was different, unique in her own way. But not unlike the others, it ended all too soon. 

   The war started 10 months later. I was called up and had to fight for my country against the Germans. Hail Hitler they say. Kiss my ass I say. Leaving my beloved behind, I went to the battlefield where it was all blood, bodies and more blood. No matter which side you were on, you would see allies and enemies alike lying all over the place. I didn't receive any letters from her and I wondered. I soon found out from a fellow soldier. Little Whinging had been massacred by those bastards not long after I left. No one survived.  #*@! those dogs. Curse them to living hell. All was lost.

   These past 3 months I have been a walking zombie. Not really but more or less. When there's no enemy in sight, I roam around aimlessly. But as soon as I get news that they were approaching, I became like a daemon, destroying anything and everything in my path just to let have a taste of their own medicine. But it looks like I went overboard in the last battle. A shell landed near to where I was standing and it ripped out most of my leg. Now I’m in the hospital getting treatment just like hundreds of other men. This place smells worse than a sewer and is cramped. Feels like I’m a sardine. But over here, all I can do is think about her. And it makes my condition worse every single day. I don’t know what to do so I tried writing it down which is what I’m doing now. I just hope it makes me feel better.