The Troopers Walk On
by Peter Ong
The two Abandoned Armored Troopers walked on in the desolate landscape, pockmarked from long past histories of ancient crashing rocks. With a rest over an hour ago, they left two new sets of footprints in the sandy soil. The weight of their rifles and armor slowed them, clung to them, haunted them, but they remained silent and uncomplaining. A rescue would be a godsend, a miracle, akin to finding two dull pearls on the sandy beach for a lady to soothe and comfort, to cherish, and to clean and polish, but four days in and no sign of any other soul around. He thought of home, of family, of women… of love. And so he began to speak over the helmet's microphone…
"Fear not, brave young soul, for you have seen more than many others.
Of distant lands, of sacrifices, of the innocent and the weak,
of the strong and the meek, of war and peace,
of spaceships that travel amongst the stars,
of battles and how they leave emotional scars.
Of billions of credits spent on machines of war,
of missions passed with success or fail,
And wins told, jokes, pranks, gossip and tall tales."
"Of pretty nurses that attend to make amends,
of deals, thrills, and journeys to the Gates of Hell.
We await rescue, just us lonely two,
two cogs in the huge machinery wheel,
trudging on without purpose,
used…spent…forgotten…
Two pebbles in the vast blue lake,
two soldiers with unknown fates,
trapped between the sandy land
and the black world above where we cannot breathe.
At least here, we still live."
"Yep," was his comrade's only comment.
And so they walked on… and on… and on…
© 2013 Peter Ong
Peter Ong writes poetry, non-fiction articles, product and travel reviews, fiction, and short stories and also creates digital art using Photoshop. He lives in Northern California.
Find more by Peter Ong in the Author Index.
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