Soldiers, rifles in hand, stalk about, all around.
I stand in their midst, unarmed.
The soldiers don't know me, they stare at the unarmed woman from time to time, with a strange look.
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Nobody knows why I'm suddenly here. A dirty body, grimy clothes, depressed unkempt hair, I don't have shackles on me, but they are somewhere still, ö without schakles but somewhere it is there............ your experiences are exceptional dear poetess. tony
If I have the guts not to be terrorized even when they've put the noose on! - IN ITALIAN: Se fossi così coraggiosa da non essere terrorizzata anche quando mi metteranno il cappio al collo!
In their eyeballs I can see a dreadful cognizance. The rifles, they know, are meant to strike terror The bayonets, the boots, are meant to strike terror. terror that is real.. tony