This one is a little bit different from my previous assignments. Consists of poetry and prose. In fact I do not like poetry as much as short story or novel as a genre but I had to do. In Medieval Lit. class we have studied Boethius' Consolation of Philosophy and our As. Prof. asked us to write something similar. The most difficult part was deciding to the content but I noticed that by time as I read something collects in my mind and when I try to create something new I call them back and inspired by them. One thing from one novel and another from a movie a song. Of course I have used allegory as coming forward figure of Medieval Literature. Here what I have done.
I woke up in unrest of
my terrible dreams as every morning,
With all those faces never
left my mind, and voices in my ears,
The
little girl with blonde hair and red coat
Who is trying to escape from
all this horror which made by me and other soldiers.
The girl falls down and her
hair stains with blood.
Bullets of my gun shoot her and
she looks me while she passes away.
She and many others died
with my gun. The guilty felling that I have felt overwhelmed rest of my life. I
see same horrible dreams and I wake with guilty feeling. I never throw away
these memories from my mind. In this hospital only Dr. War tries to console me.
“ Please Dr. War kill me I can not bear these agony anymore. Suffering of all
those people that I killed never leave me. All the nights their faces in front
of my eyes. I killed! I killed all of them! I am the murderer of all the
people! This is the crime against humanity the only thing that deserve is
death” I said. He replies me with his calm attitude as always “ I see you more
nervous today Septimus. Did you see the little girl with blonde hair and red
coat again?” Dr. War I killed the girl. I can not bear this misery any longer.”
Then he begins his consolation as every day “ Try to calm down Septimus it was
not your fault as I have told you before. It was not your choice to go to the
war. You had to. You had no choice. The desicion did not belong you but the
government. You were just one of the thousands soldiers and you had to do what
commanded you. The soldiers who turn back from the war declare himself as hero
because figthing for own country and killing people is known a blessed duty and
also if you die there your name will endure as martyr to whom heaven is
promised. But you are not one of them you are out of all religious and
political norms. You are the one who feel responsible conscientiously that is
why the government who considers your situation as insanity sent you to this
mental hospital. As all other soldiers in here. Keep in your mind that Septimus
you are not responsible and do not blame yourself anymore, the guilty person is
who makes you pull the trigger.
I can not get rid of all the memoirs of the
war.
I killed all of them I killed the little
girl.
The faces always in my mind. I am miserable.
Wish I could never join
the war and never be a soldier.
I did not decide and I
did not choose to fight but I killed them.
This misery that goes
on every day should have an end.
While I am sitting at
the edge of the window at the sixth floor,
And looking down, these
lines come off of my mouth.
Fear no more the heat o' the sun, / Nor
the furious winter's rages.** from Shakespeare
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