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I
am
young,
I
am
twenty
years
old;
yet
I
know
nothing
of
life
but
despair,
death,
fear,
and
fatuous
superficiality
cast
over
an
abyss
of
sorrow.
I
see
how
peoples
are
set
against
one
another,
and
in
silence,
unknowingly,
foolishly,
obediently,
innocently
slay
one
another.
I
see
that
the
keenest
brains
of
the
world
invent
weapons
and
words
to
make
it
yet
more
refined
and
enduring.
And
all
men
of
my
age,
here
and
over
there,
throughout
the
whole
world,
see
these
things;
all
my
generation
is
experiencing
these
things
with
me.
What
would
our
fathers
do
if
we
suddenly
stood
up
and
came
before
them
and
proffered
our
account?
What
do
they
expect
of
us
if
a
time
ever
comes
when
the
war
is
over?
Through
the
years
our
business
has
been
killing;
it
was
our
first
calling
in
life.
Our
knowledge
of
life
is
limited
to
death.
What
will
happen
afterwards?
And
what
shall
come
out
of
us?
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