Voices from the past

[aklifaal]

We would not live by wisdom nor philosophy,
Life is ought to be a dice thrown by steelen hands.
Would not dying on our warm beds be cruelty?
Our bloody graves should be in the frontier lands.

Is it sorrowful if our chests are pierced by the bayonets?
So what if a bullet burns our hearts?
They cannot kill us; those bullets, those bayonets,
Perhaps soothe our eternally aching hearts.

When we fall on the field with longing in our eyes,
Mother Earth will surely open her arms to us.
No one other than her loves us under the skies,
In her bosoms she will keep us.

If the doe-eyed maidens won't be our beloveds, is that sadness?
As long as our swords and bayonets have us, we shall be their braves.
Isn't dying on a warm bed madness?
The battlefield will be our graves.

 

[ProBono]

incel writing this covered in rain, mud and shit while three trenches over chad is writing letters to his stacy wife back home, brutal western front pill

 

[aklifaal]

incel writing this covered in rain, mud and shit while three trenches over chad is writing letters to his stacy wife back home, brutal western front pill

chad is either a draft dodger or an arty officer well behind the frontlines boyo

 

[ProBono]

chad is either a draft dodger or an arty officer well behind the frontlines boyo

that's why he's able to write letters in his comfy reserve trench

 

[aklifaal]

I love Gingers

me too

 

[The Fool]

I enjoyed this

 

[aklifaal]

bump

 

[Panchitosbroncs]

We would not live by wisdom nor philosophy,
Life is ought to be a dice thrown by steelen hands.
Would not dying on our warm beds be cruelty?
Our bloody graves should be in the frontier lands.

Is it sorrowful if our chests are pierced by the bayonets?
So what if a bullet burns our hearts?
They cannot kill us; those bullets, those bayonets,
Perhaps soothe our eternally aching hearts.

When we fall on the field with longing in our eyes,
Mother Earth will surely open her arms to us.
No one other than her loves us under the skies,
In her bosoms she will keep us.

If the doe-eyed maidens won't be our beloveds, is that sadness?
As long as our swords and bayonets have us, we shall be their braves.
Isn't dying on a warm bed madness?
The battlefield will be our graves.

idk bro

 

[aklifaal]