Gallery
Literature
Combat Boots
Visions of varying shades of green
Cloud my eyes with fatigue
Boots laced high, cap pulled low
March to the beat of that distant drum.
A brother, a son, a husband, a friend
This hero goes by many names
He will walk through hell and back
For country and family and love
One thousand plus miles separate
Half a barely beating heart labors through
Each second bringing me a little bit closer
Each hour seeming longer than the last
Without him is a world devoid
Of colours and textures and sounds
My heart, my hero, my everything
My wonderful man in uniform.
All
161 deviations
Literature
Combat Boots
Visions of varying shades of green
Cloud my eyes with fatigue
Boots laced high, cap pulled low
March to the beat of that distant drum.
A brother, a son, a husband, a friend
This hero goes by many names
He will walk through hell and back
For country and family and love
One thousand plus miles separate
Half a barely beating heart labors through
Each second bringing me a little bit closer
Each hour seeming longer than the last
Without him is a world devoid
Of colours and textures and sounds
My heart, my hero, my everything
My wonderful man in uniform.
Featured
161 deviations
Literature
Faded in the Blackout 1.2
As usual, I was startled awake by Joanna, our Blockalteste's assistant, two hours before the break of dawn. Her now gruff voice sent shivers down my spine as it usually does most days.
I roll out of bed, almost landing on Gretchen, the eldest of the women in our block.
"Careful, child," Gretchen warned in her kind voice, but it was too late. Joanna saw my stumble.
"You lazy Jew!" Joanna shouts loudly in my face. The smell of pork and coffee washes over my face, feeding me the scents of her breakfast. "Langersperre is tomorrow, bright and early. You wouldn't want to be selected, now would you?" Joanna laughed cruelly before moving out of
Faded in the Blackout
27 deviations
Prose
16 deviations
Literature
Combat Boots
Visions of varying shades of green
Cloud my eyes with fatigue
Boots laced high, cap pulled low
March to the beat of that distant drum.
A brother, a son, a husband, a friend
This hero goes by many names
He will walk through hell and back
For country and family and love
One thousand plus miles separate
Half a barely beating heart labors through
Each second bringing me a little bit closer
Each hour seeming longer than the last
Without him is a world devoid
Of colours and textures and sounds
My heart, my hero, my everything
My wonderful man in uniform.
Poetry
59 deviations
Literature
Crimson Tears pt 5-6
_Return To “Normalcy”_
“Honey, what are you doing here?” My mother asked as she embraced me much too tightly. I had only entered the door about ten seconds earlier, and already she was frantic.
“I don’t like it up there. I missed home.
“Oh my goodness! What happened? Are you okay? How did you get here?” Mother fired questions at me almost faster than I can fathom them. Questions to which she severely overdramatized my situation. Instead, I merely walked past her towards my own little niche of darkness.
“Joshua?”
“I don’t want to talk about it, Mother.”
She walked acro
Crimson Tears
3 deviations
Photography
36 deviations
Traditional Art
7 deviations
Scraps
9 deviations
Featured161
