There’s no denying the LONGING for home. – It aches in his bones more than age ever would because he has grown no older, regardless of the years passed. The thoughts turn over in his head, screaming like a RUSTED wheel begging to stop but it won’t. It will never stop. He knows this. The carefree days of youth have long gone, where the dance halls were filled with boys barely SEVENTEEN and yet wanting to fight in a war they had no place in. He was one of them once. Barely out of boyhood, marching off at DAYBREAK, ready to do whatever was needed to serve his country. — Anger permeates his body at the thought, scorching through his veins like a blasting FURNACE. He wants to leave those memories as ash, scatter them to the winds so that someone else may bear their burden but they are his and his alone. There are more than NINE circles of hell, he knows that personally. The BENIGN hand of God does nothing for those stolen by the Devil himself. It is up to his own hands, one of flesh and one of steel, to claw his way to the surface and earn his HOMECOMING. Perhaps there will be ONE day where he doesn’t wish he can turn back time, to when his nightmares aren’t plagued by his fall from the FREIGHT CAR. —
