Warning: War poetry below.

The dead were bloody and tears were dry upon their faces, a fate from where, the emptiness fills the space, you have to be there, no, that sounds sad, the details are more than a days worth. I stared at the pebbles on the ground, for help.

The game was falling off the table. Exploding as glass, nothing for the shrapnel, just savagry taking form as life needs more.

Dead bodies were there, as far as I could tell, just myself, and the horror of it, the signs of fighting and fleeing, nothing for them now, they have no stories to tell.

As far as I go, I walked through fire. Onto something higher. Then smoke filled the room and I vanished almost.

Strikes back!

You think you are powerful, nah!

I crawled up the stairs in search of the stars, they seemed so bright, for I wanted one to eat, the brightest in the sky. Wings of hope took me high, past clouds, beyond sound,, into silence, with the dead near, though not so alone, fallen snow in the frost of gone, I pass the time.