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Pain is surreal.

The awareness of what I’ve become is shocking, painful.

As I glance around, bodies twist and keel

Over

my shoulder, I see a brother in arms fall, eyes glassy, yet full.

Of love

some say it does not exist.

I know that to love is to lose, but what hell is this?

As the torment through which he’s continued to live

Comes to a sudden end

He’s given more than one should ever give,

I’ve just lost my best friend.

Death is never a clean thing

Is there really a difference between nightmares and dreams

Both can leave a man locked in neverending screams

Fighting demons he didn’t know he had

Wishing that things were saner, that life wasn’t so sad

Pain eats at us all

Some will sacrifice themselves

Death always happens

This poem is about: 
Our world

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