lanorth [2010-02-02 08:10:51 +0000 UTC]
fire
the swift sleek death was shot apon us
the war was on
mobile suits of metal approached us
but we would not be taken
we charged tripping and fumbiling over still comrades
there was fire everywere, burning and smoldering
they were destroying are home
fatigue crept upon my men slowly killing them
jolts of pain flooding through my body, like waves pounding against the shore
red mist flowing over the battlefield
falling, falling into nothingness
we are the conquered
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