THE WAR RAGING WITHIN He sat there with blood on his hands blood of another man A man, who now lay at his feet his body cold, eyes unseeing. Who was he, the man who lay dead. He didn't know, but it was said that, he was a man with a family Maria his wife and little Emily; he was a good man, this man an ideal citizen of the country he paid his taxes, paid his bills loved his wife and his kid and yet he lay there dead on a crimson river bed. The man who killed him, sat there and watched him just for a few minutes and then he walked past him he had a battle to win but he knew the man would come back at night to haunt him just like the dozens before him whom he had killed not for money, not out of greed it was the law kill or be killed; This was war, a bigger war raging within his conscience and his animal instinct he didn't have the time to wait and settle this he needed to move on kill many more kill till ...
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