Blade and Poetry

The place we were sent to was a large holding cell with four white walls.Originally there were dozens of people locked inside, but with the addition of us, the space under the same roof is a bit crowded.It's not as clean as a standard prison.Drinking water is provided twice a day, which is a crude vegetarian food.Only at the time of serving meals, people sitting on the ground will rush to the small window, breaking out some vitality from the sluggishness all day long.

What I thought about the most during this time was the scene that was inserted into my quiz.I think it belongs to someone's memory - or rather, the memory of a wise man.

The wise man was captured by the victorious country, and this memory appeared in Columbus's test, and the meaning behind it seems to be obvious.However, my thinking stopped here, and I didn't want to go any further.

I knew in my heart that even though wise men described the powers on both sides as "coveting each other", or some clever strategy adopted by the King of Pu for this purpose, the country opposite Pu still seemed to be the first to initiate the invasion.I do not believe that the protracted bloody battle began with a simple manslaughter.

——The small boat in the rapids that I can't really steer may be warning me that what I am facing is a history that cannot be reversed or changed.

A batch of people in the white house will be taken away every day, and everyone hopes that they will be the next lucky one to be selected.I have seen all kinds of refurbished prayers here, and there are also some ugly expressions when you are extremely bored or full of despair, but most of them just wait silently towards the prison door.In the first few days someone was always able to leave, but suddenly, this pardoning release was abruptly terminated.A total of ten days later, the food was still delivered, but there was still no movement at the gate of the white house.The air in the prison was gradually stained with a sense of panic—the order of the short-term detention seemed to be temporarily forgotten.

We were let out by the patrol guards together on the 17th day, and finally bathed in the long-lost skylight above our heads, and the tip of our nose touched the free-flowing air.Everyone felt a kind of joy, and also faintly bold, and began to talk to each other, but was immediately stopped by the patrol guard.A large group of us lined up with handcuffs and shackles, walking slowly, being led along the desolate path.Someone couldn't help asking the patrol guard where we were going to be released. The patrol guard warned her a few words and waved the head of his staff in a menacing manner, so she could only remain silent obediently, and continued to be trapped in the With the restraint of hands and feet, he moved forward slowly like everyone else.

After my initial excitement subsided, I felt that the road under my feet seemed strangely long.I squeezed towards the front of the team and picked a place close to the patrolling guards, but the only voices I heard on the way were a few faint words from them:

"The prison of rest?"

"The prison of rest."

I felt that the situation outside had changed.We are not being flung back to a free land, but being transferred to another place that is not free.The joy that had been on the faces of my colleagues was gone, too, as we stopped in front of one of the vaulted buildings.The building was made of unpainted brown bricks, and the rough corners of a few bricks protruded ugly in the upward line of the edge of the wall. Stacked on top of each other, a rough and fierce monster was formed.There is no writing on the front of the wall, but a small square sign is hung on the top of the tall iron gate embedded in the wall.It was engraved with: "Hell of Rest".

The door squeaked, and a few soldiers-like people came out to meet the patrolling guards.

"This is different from what the priest promised," I looked back at the expressions of the people behind me, and felt that I had to say the last sentence, "Our crimes have long been cleared, and the remaining evil thoughts have also been confessed within the ten days of confinement. We You can already be free."

The patrolling guards in gray robes didn't answer, but a man in military uniform raised his eyelids at me: "Hey!"

Immediately afterwards, several soldiers circled behind us and drove us to go inside.

"Go in! Go in!" they shouted.

I soon realized that Rest in Rest lived up to its name.It has dozens of small rooms on each floor, but its residents are extraordinarily quiet.We are not driven to the top of the fortress, but to the dark underground.The people in my company were shoved into one narrow iron grid after another, and finally I was left alone.The soldier pinching my shoulder said:

"It's that dishonest little guy just now!"

"Let him stay with the loud freak on the bottom floor," counseled another, "there's just a space where he won't have to use his tongue to drum up people."

As they said that, they escorted me down until the stairs came to the end, and I went deep into a short and flat corridor.There were wall lamps in the two walls of the corridor, and there were dim white flames burning in them.There are only two cells on this floor, which are opposite each other.

One of them went to unlock the cell door, and the soldier who was holding my shoulder relaxed a little at this moment.My mind was confused, and I seized the opportunity by my intuition. With force, I got out of the control of the man behind me, and an elbow hit him hard in the stomach.He gasped in pain and curled up.

Since this large movement involved hand and foot shackles, it took me some time to stand still before I could punch the man who opened the lock a few times; but the man stretched out his feet first and hooked me to the ground.The two of them seemed to be used to this kind of non-painful resistance. They laughed and kicked me hard a few times, and then threw me into the cell door, and put a heavy lock on the outside.

"When will you let me out?" I climbed up and yelled, clutching the bars.

"It won't be a few days!" A soldier laughed loudly, and cursed again, the voice came from the stairs indistinctly, "When the time comes, all of you will be fine, you all have to go out."

The deepest layer of Dormition was restored to silence.I slumped and slumped on the ground, the iron railing against my fingers was icy cold.

I guess how long I have to stay in this dark underground——I think about the future, and I can't help but feel that current events are changing too fast, throwing people up and down, and dragging them into infinite daze.I thought of the word "burial" and wiped it away tremblingly.I felt many vague injustices at once.Those emotions came surging and almost overwhelmed me.

I stared at my ten fingers; they slowly slid down the bars, and before they hit the ground, they let go of themselves, lying on the ground as if they had been pulled from their bones.

After this moment of bewilderment subsided a little, a new wave came up again.I stumbled into a hot-headed situation, and countless escape ideas rose and expanded in my mind.It suddenly occurred to me that when no one was watching, I could try something else, maybe I could break the metal chain between my hands.Shackles are exclusive to magicians. I think it is wishful thinking to gather magic power in the right hand, but there are still some possibilities in the left hand.

I didn't want to let go of any extra time, so I raised my left hand tremblingly, and immediately pushed the magic power towards the veins of my fingertips.I remained in that position for about a few minutes, motionless, my brow wet with sweat.Then my Charon actually fell - not in my hand like it usually does.I didn't catch it and it slipped.

I can't take my eyes off its blade.With a short howl, I picked it up and kissed it with ecstasy in my heart, and the shackles were thrown away by me.I immediately changed my posture again, put the tip of the knife on the ground, held the handle of the knife in my hand, and pulled my arm back to grind the short metal chain.I spent most of the day, but there were only a few messy light-colored scratches on the metal.

The chain wears on and might be split, which I cannot do alone - I realize this, but I try and try in vain, until I myself grow exhausted and sit back on the ground, panting .I guess it will be a while before I try to split the shackles.

My feet are still bound, and my hands are also bound.Sorrow and ecstasy temporarily reached a balance, and I returned to the reality of the resting prison.