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POETRY: Wounded Worrior By: Oluwole Joseph.A.

The comfort left. This warmth slithered away. 
The silence disappeared away.
And left me alone with noise.
In an instant, it surrounded me, shot through me, stabbed me. 
It dragged me back to the depth of my memories, 
dragged me back to the horrifying residence of my past, 
I thought I had burn the pages, that wasn't enough.
 I tried to get as far away from it, to the calm I previously felt.
But it was too late, I was captured, it's haunting me. 
There was no more running, not anymore.
Memory presented itself to me. Each one bring back the gut.
Please then, it was as if a fog was lifted.
The Silence came. There was only one way I could described it, the only one way it felt.
Warm, it was warm, it cardle me gently. Embraced me so silently. 
Yet, it felt so new.....so foreign. Save. It felt so save too, more tempting and inviting.
 I craved after the new feelings that washed over me.
 I could not let go, not for a seconds, I held unto the feelings tightly, my moment, my life depends on it. I could let go. 
I would n__
It was too late once again.
Would it ever come back to me? That was my usual question. 
NO was the usual Answer.
Or so I thought.
Silence came back to me, one night, o strange night,
my nightmares, my past, the noise all came to come, 
my past smothering with me, there was nothing I could do than to let it wash ove me, 
encompass me, swallow me, I couldn't think, 
there was nothing I could do. NOTHING.
Please... Please... Help...
Night after Night, I had fought with my demons, especially in my dreams. 
But the silence never came, all that was, was the noise, the noise nether comforted, nor did it bring peace,
 it trampled on my courage, destroyed my Will to fight, 
it weakened my will to live.
The noise reminded me of my fallen self.
THE END.

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