Descriptive Essay 18th April 2011

The crimson blood flowed profusely from his nose. The bullet showed no mercy at all. His body was lifeless now. The stench of the trenches was gruesome. One of his squad-mates drops knee first. His grip on his rifle tightens. He was filled with rage. The other squad-mate reaches out for the dead soldier’s tag- silver, cold and metallic. The ground was littered with waste, blood and tears of soldiers. It was a bloodbath.