The Silent Man
He threw his sword and his shield on the snow. The dry sound of metal made everything easier. The battlefield lost its colours. The roaring of the soldiers flew with the wind that carried nothing to nowhere. There was no reason to stay there. His presence was useless like all the others. Useless, like the bodies spread to all sides.
He walked over the cold blood of his old friends and of hundreds of enemies whose names he would never know. He looked for the empty face of a dead child. No metal on that war could make such a damage in this soul. No sword could break his guts like the emptiness of those grey eyes on the snow.
What He lost on that day, no Emperor, no war and no God could bring back. Not even the silently hours could soft the fragments of his remaining days.
photo by nathanielwilliam