| ||||||||||
| ||||||||||
| ||||||||||
| ||||||||||
| ||||||||||
|
| ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| >> Static Item >> Poetry >> War >> ID #892588 |
| |||||||||||||
|
Their city is located on the edge
of a hostile territory filled with bitter enemies. They must maintain constant vigilance, must remain on permanent alert, for danger is all around them. Suddenly, the alarm is sounded. The enemy is at their gate, plundering and destroying. The soldiers boil out of the city, aroused, eager to fight and die in defense of their primitive society against the more sophisticated weaponry of the superior force attacking them, intent upon their complete annihilation. These comrades in arms meet death… they die by the tens, by the hundreds, by the thousands, by the tens of thousands – mangled bodies piling upon mangled bodies, as each new wave of soldiers pouring forth encounters toxic chemicals filling the air, causing their bodies to writhe and wilt. Still, they never hesitate, never question, as they keep advancing to engage the enemy. Each does his duty…and dies. While the enemy may win this battle, he shall never defeat them. They cannot be beaten. The colony will survive, will thrive, for these soldiers belong to that uncontrollable spreading horde of fire ants.
© Copyright 2004 Harry (UN: harryg at Writing.Com).
All rights reserved.
Harry has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work. | |||||||