Descriptive writing

Prisoner of War

I was chosen by you, in the monochrome times of havoc and despair, amongst the suffocating gasses and stabbing guilt.  We always believed we were special; there was nothing to hesitate about.  We knew why we were here in the death trodden trenches and the dust of past glories.  Blinding fires raged, spitting and licking at our bodies, we did this for you, we suffered as honourable men, we had faith, we believed we were important to you.
    But in truth: we are all your pawns, your toys; so we keep pretending to be fools who don't know anger, fooling ourselves into believing this pain was right.  I promised an eternity to fight for you in the barren wasteland of corpses devoid of any sign of life, vegetation or happiness, taken in by promises and dreams as if I was noctumbulous when I followed you that bitter October night, when the stars cowered behind the cloud and raging fire.
    The scene I've seen before is dyed in sepia; our constrained world permeated by scarlet blood of the innocent as everything begins.
    Boom.
    Let us do our best not to die at the end.
    Boom.
    Give me your life, it's a cycle of death.
    Boom.  The cannons of corruption fire, until there are about 3,000 left, and it turns into night...
    The small spark of light that was left in us turns to darkness, spreading like a plague, we are contaminated and confined.
    From now on our voices will never be heard again, all our freedom has been stolen from us.
    Prisoners of war and deception; locked away while fearing the pain, I fell for a flower...
    It drifted in through the small bars of betrayal, ever so pure as it danced in the stale air of the cell; the world seemed to shine so brightly around it, like spring had returned to me.  When the little flower came into reach of my chained battered form, it was disgusted and pitied the sight of the lonely toy soldier.  It reared back and was snatched away from me!  The only spark of freedom and happiness shown to me had been cruelly taken away by the corrupt world.
    Time passes cruelly.
    Everything becomes darkness, the darkness has tainted what used to be such a "wonderful world".  If you speak out then the merciless god will decide your fate with his unjust power.
    The darkness has become despair.  Weeping voices and small scared whimpers resonate around the slaughterhouse.
    If you I could turn back time, I want to know the bright season I could've spent with you, my innocent flower.  Even if my voice gets hoarse I will pray for you, I will shout the battle cries of honour and loyalty for our passed brothers, I will bless our children, sacrifice myself for you all.
    The violence caused such silence.
    Crying voices of widows and fatherless children only heard by the angels who know the pools of patriotic sacrifice painted across prison walls.
    My shackles hand tight, but old and rusted they became, rough to the touch but brittle.  God has not abandoned us yet.
    Definitely don't make a mistake now, count up the amount of pain in your body.  The rage bubbling within me spits violently as I see the inoperative faces of men whose names I can't recall.  Men that were tortured mentally and physically until they died.  Even the memories, lies and truths we were deprived of burns and scars us.
    I advance, without even knowing why I'm here now.  Cold rough concrete scratches at my bare calloused feet, stinging as they slap the ground, silenced by the flow of crimson as I soldier on, like an evening angel that has had its wings ripped from it.  I know their pain, their suffering, I endured it too, the hard sharp pain that slowly buried itself within our chests to slowly spread... infecting our bodies and souls with the bitter truth... brothers, I will avenge you.
    Enemy spotted at 10 o'clock, distance: 150 feet.
    The large pawn dressed with his nation on his sleeve, his hair stuck to his head with perspiration, stands as a puppet should, exactly as the puppet master wishes.  His gnarled hands rest behind his back, unaware of my presence as I take the small, sharp, shiny dagger of rebellion and pounce my tired, feeble, adrenaline powered corpse toward him.
    Uninstall... uninstall... uninstall...
    His blood pools by my feet, mingling with ours as the stench of death and despair only grows.  You reap what you sow, doesn't it make sense?
    My tortured mind runs on loop as I continue to advance, a soldier never quits, never runs and always fights for his country.
    Lies!  All lies!!  With these hands of mine I will remove them all!  Not for you, or your children but for my pain.  Why do you all deserve peace?  Why is is that you are all so happy?  When we're suffering for you to be happy...  you never suffer, you never fight, you expect us to do it for you.  We got promised happiness, love and fame for it to be cruelly ripped away from us.
    This is the punishment of the "angel" of the evil eye of politicians and leaders.  I can't escape this... even after so much I am still your toy, obediently following orders as you play this never ending game of chess.
    I want to leave this world, to run away.  My head becomes discombobulated as the world seems to spin and sway beneath my feet, the uniform toys of governments charging in from all sides.
    Air.
    I feel air, my doll eyes open to the grey and sepia scenery, my limbs bound, being forced to grovel on the floor.
    However, as I look up I see it; daintily skipping in the wind, the ephemeral flower that carried what was left of my dreams in its fragile hands.  Carried by the wind I catch the gentle faded scent of cherry blossoms.
    I am ready to die.
    As I look up into the empty sky, I can't help but sigh.  Goodnight, it's my time to sleep.
    Bang.
    The reverberating sound of a gunshot and the dull throbbing pain are the last I feel as I fall into the darkness. Without ever knowing the outcome.
    Let me be with my flower, to be reborn, as a wise cherry tree.