The Dream of Death
" The Dream of Death" How can one distinguish between the two distant realms of dreams and reality? To many, the answer to this question is simple; dreams occur in our sleep, and reality is events, occurrences, and happenings that go on in our daily lives. However, many people wonder, is it possible that at one point in time that our dreams actually did occur in reality, and even if they did not, how do our dreams affect us when we awake from our slumber? " Dreams surely difficult, confusing, and not everything in them is brought to pass for mankind. For fleeting dreams have two gates: one is fashioned of horn and one of ivory. Those who pass through the one of sawn ivory are deceptive, bringing tidings which come to nought, but those who issue from the one of polished horn bring true results when a mortal sees them."(Homer, The Odyssey, 700 BC) I will leave you to judge both questions for yourselves. After two days of the most ferocious fighting yet to be witnessed in the entire war, I was tired, hungry, and weary of the omnipresent feeling that death lurked just around the corner. On the third day of the engagement, I was aroused from my precious slumber by an eruption of artillery fire directly in fron
They were afraid, afraid that our attack might fail and our cause be totally lost. The scene around me began to fade along with the sounds of gunfire and screaming until only darkness remained. Amazingly however, the Yankees soon began to match our artillery fire with their own. Whatever the reason, that dream sparked my interest for the Civil War. My call fell upon deaf ears however. "Who was calling me?" "I was shot" Opening my eyes I saw that the battlefield was gone. We let loose the "Rebel Yell" as we surged onward, this struck fear, as it always had, into the cowardly hearts of our enemies. I was simply to captivated by the daunting task at hand. For a brief moment, I thought that we were under attack. My will for survival suddenly vanished as the thousands of Yankee reinforcements slammed into the small number of my comrades who were still fighting. The hour of judgement had come, I drew my sword from its sheath, signaled for the advance, and then we were in the forward step. I was thirteen years old then, and to this say the freckles remain.
Common topics in this essay:
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Dream Death,
Rebel Yell,
Yankees Confederate,
Confederate Army,
Civil War,
Amazingly Yankees,
pain chest,
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stone wall,
yankee shells,
confederate artillerymen,
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Acceptance Essays
