[ WP ] Stars have brilliant deaths , large explosions given a beautiful name . Men are granted nothing so glorious .

The sounds of bullets whistling past and of men screaming and of explosions blasting into the sky rose to a violent crescendo around Isaac, but all he cared about was the fact that he could n't hear himself breath. He dropped his rifle and propped himself against the anti-tank trap that squatted on the damp sand that was the graveyard of many young soldiers. But that did n't matter; the only thing that mattered was the fact that Isaac could n't breath. He tried to breath in but his chest hurt, and now his stomach was wet and so were his legs. 
 
 A soldier with a red cross stitched to his arm ran past him, and for a brief second, the two men made eye contact. But then the man was gone and Isaac was left alone. 
 
 Isaac doubled over as pain suddenly erupted in his abdomen like a dying star. He tried to cry out in pain -- he tried to yell to the world that he -- *he* was dying, that *he* was not going to make it and that was *unfair*! He *had* to make it. But still he could not breath. And then slowly his world began to drain of color until nothing else mattered but sleep.
