from sightless eyes, the words were spoken,
of hearts stopped beating, and bones, broken.
a fight broke out that friend nor foe can,
fend off at all, with gold or token.
through-out the night, and day it lingered,
with hearts ceased beating, and bones, splintered.
a fight that felt as cold as winter,
that bore no loss, or hope of winner.
unseen by any, who could, in fact,
help hearts not beating, and bones, cracked.
a fight that seemed, would forever, last,
always future, present, past.
as sharp, and clear, as child's laughter,
were hearts quit beating, and bones, shattered.
a fight in darkness, that just got blacker,
and swallowed whole anything that mattered.
Copyright © Christopher Pitts