for the people turned soldiers; they walked willingly into death’s cold clutches. they marched on even when the ranks fell. for the people turned monsters; they killed mercilessly into the dawn of the new day. they felt small pangs of regret and suppressed it with anger. for the people turned victims; they sat cowarding in corners into the backspaces of minds. they persisted on despite it all and in spite of death itself.
for what is war if not the extinction of identity | A.H. (via hidethefires)





















