Katiya Danisovna 17 Ermakov Prospekt Sverdlov'sk, Ural SSR September 14, 1942 My love, I've been assigned to another unit. 192 Red Guards Rifles, attached to the 13th Guards Rifles division. We are due to take a train into Stalingrad Tuesday next. I will do my best to write. Bozhe moyja, my love. Bozhe moyja. I love you. Please remember me in your prayers. Yours, Vanya.
will you love me will you hate me will you cling to me will you waste me i can't belong in this world no-o i can't belong in this world will you desire, feel a conflagration in your arms you are always my damnation no, i can't belong in this world yes, yes i want to be in your world no i can't belong in this world will you desire, in your arms, me, i am always in your world.
no snow, no lights, a barren tree. is this what it means to be thirty three? no snow, no lights, a tree covered in unfamiliar colors clearly wound up in weeks of waiting for a feeling that simply doesn't manifest itself and i think it's lost. we spent weeks buried in white crystals and the smell of Blue Ridge burning! was always in the air as the rivers swelled on the rare warm morning of January. and yet now. a spectre of the past. no snow. no fireplace and no embrace just emptiness. no snow. no snow. no snow. what happened to us?
i'm not used to this glow feeling so cold. the rain outside sounds like a constant drone of you're not good enough, you're not good enough but i keep fighting, fighting for some reason. she's hours away, she's hours away the boughs of the artificial tree seem to keep chanting but. soup is on the stove, rice in a pan as i drag my feet closer to another year heart pounding, pounding because my savior is a mixed blesssing and a curse but she has a name and i love it and can't shake it.
scan, scan, scan. number after number. scan, scan, scan. tan, red, blue, green of endless mountain peaks and dust. a reason it's the end? with that black bar with a timestamp. scan, scan, scan. neck hurts from the magnifier. think that it'll be in my pocket after all its trails on the film. signatures, signatures to verify and verify. "scan, scan, scan: there's always something that you've missed." twenty-nine, let's go. twenty-nine, let's go. verify, verify. twenty-nine, let's go.
look upon the loss, and see wars unseen, in hearts and minds we lost in a generation ago. so we carry on, pretending it's all the same all the shock and awe. the sand, the seas, the mountains and digital patterns, OCP photographs from the air verified for secure accuracy. it's all just a loss. by air, by land, by sea what is that we are that will last?
Katiya Danisovna 17 Ermakov Prospekt Sverdlov'sk, Ural SSR September 14, 1942 My love, I've been assigned to another unit. 192 Red Guards Rifles, attached to the 13th Guards Rifles division. We are due to take a train into Stalingrad Tuesday next. I will do my best to write. Bozhe moyja, my love. Bozhe moyja. I love you. Please remember me in your prayers. Yours, Vanya.
will you love me will you hate me will you cling to me will you waste me i can't belong in this world no-o i can't belong in this world will you desire, feel a conflagration in your arms you are always my damnation no, i can't belong in this world yes, yes i want to be in your world no i can't belong in this world will you desire, in your arms, me, i am always in your world.
no snow, no lights, a barren tree. is this what it means to be thirty three? no snow, no lights, a tree covered in unfamiliar colors clearly wound up in weeks of waiting for a feeling that simply doesn't manifest itself and i think it's lost. we spent weeks buried in white crystals and the smell of Blue Ridge burning! was always in the air as the rivers swelled on the rare warm morning of January. and yet now. a spectre of the past. no snow. no fireplace and no embrace just emptiness. no snow. no snow. no snow. what happened to us?
i'm not used to this glow feeling so cold. the rain outside sounds like a constant drone of you're not good enough, you're not good enough but i keep fighting, fighting for some reason. she's hours away, she's hours away the boughs of the artificial tree seem to keep chanting but. soup is on the stove, rice in a pan as i drag my feet closer to another year heart pounding, pounding because my savior is a mixed blesssing and a curse but she has a name and i love it and can't shake it.
scan, scan, scan. number after number. scan, scan, scan. tan, red, blue, green of endless mountain peaks and dust. a reason it's the end? with that black bar with a timestamp. scan, scan, scan. neck hurts from the magnifier. think that it'll be in my pocket after all its trails on the film. signatures, signatures to verify and verify. "scan, scan, scan: there's always something that you've missed." twenty-nine, let's go. twenty-nine, let's go. verify, verify. twenty-nine, let's go.
look upon the loss, and see wars unseen, in hearts and minds we lost in a generation ago. so we carry on, pretending it's all the same all the shock and awe. the sand, the seas, the mountains and digital patterns, OCP photographs from the air verified for secure accuracy. it's all just a loss. by air, by land, by sea what is that we are that will last?
Help me in my bid to win the delicious and shiny EPIC CONTEST 03: ROMANTICALLY APOCALYPTIC OC! Go to my entry below (the thumbnail); if you're a deviantArt member, comment and favorite (well, only if you actually do like it). If you're not familiar with the tastiest web-comic on the Internet, visit Romantically Apocalyptic and read up!
The contest closes 7 March, and from what I can tell, top entries will be voted upon at that point or shortly thereafter.
Romantically Apocalyptic © alexiuss (https://www.deviantart.com/alexiuss)
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Cheers, comrades and friends!