"Dead or Alive"

Oh, you black beauty, fine instrument of death. One gets to hold one and it speaks for one. Clean as life depends on it. Dead or alive, what is this one worth? The urge to kill wasn't necessarily there, but it was on one's hands.

Let this weapon speak. One has the power of life and death. One sees the future and it doesn't include one. One may not make it to the next day. What the fuck does one know? Dead or Alive.

No longer in one's hands but rather on one's mind now. No choice back then. That was how it was. The weapon was in charge. Now, the human subject is free to think and express one's self.

One actually survives this shit. Would one ever believe the shit one's been through? One was sure it was heard, but only the fellows of C.I.B. felt it.

Discovered a new person inside. Starting to realize the power one holds. One's training is the key to defeat life. The challenges ahead will be nothing compared to the war one has walked. No excuses, now the C.I.B's come to enjoy the hard earned struggles.

Price is steep, too many to count, take that comment and interpret as one wishes. What kind of an education will one get from it? Right or wrong one will decide to the everlasting day.

That was my price for the war.