Some say in ice.
From what I’ve tasted of desire,
I hold with those who favor fire.
I am the harvest of man’s stupidity. I am the fruit of the holocaust. I prayed like you to survive, but look at me now. It is over for us who are dead, but you must struggle, and will carry the memories all your life. People back home will wonder why you can’t forget.
- With the Old Breed, Eugene Sledge
