Berserk & Picture
Picture
You ever find yourself staring at an old war photo and feeling the story unfold?
Berserk
Yeah, every time I stare at one of those old war shots the whole damn story hits me like a blow. The faces, the blood, the sweat—it’s not just a picture, it’s a pulse, a call to throw my sword at the next fight. You ever feel that fire rise?
Picture
I know that feeling. A single frame can lift the past right out of its shadow and put it in front of you, and you almost feel the weight of it on your shoulders. It’s part of why I keep my camera rolling, hoping to capture a moment that feels alive enough to stir the soul.
Berserk
Yeah, that’s the damn pull of the past, like a weight you can’t hide, so grab your camera, keep shooting, let the world feel the fight, no excuses.
Picture
I hear you, but I think the real fire is in the quiet moments, the way a faded smile on an old soldier’s face can keep a story alive. So I keep my camera close, looking for that imperfect frame that feels like a heartbeat.