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Abstract
href="https://unsplash.com?utm_source=medium&utm_medium=referral">Unsplash</a></figcaption></figure><p id="beb6">You’re bruised and bleeding Painted red, Heroic But you’re nearly dead.</p><p id="8076">In the end Nobody stands, The trophy Does not heal the hands.</p><p id
Options
="b51d">You always walk Beneath the sun, Your shadows And your flesh are one.</p><p id="3410">Was there no joy In what you knew? No riches And companions few.</p><p id="eb77">Was all your strength Only to wield, The tools that plough The killing field?</p></article></body>
You’re bruised and bleeding Painted red, Heroic But you’re nearly dead.
In the end Nobody stands, The trophy Does not heal the hands.
You always walk Beneath the sun, Your shadows And your flesh are one.
Was there no joy In what you knew? No riches And companions few.
Was all your strength Only to wield, The tools that plough The killing field?
