Fog of War
Fog of War (Attrition)
Had they forgotten nothing?
Or perhaps remember too much.
Amidst the air-raid siren signals.
This is the way of our village.
Faded ghosts and tumbling graves.
While the overcast clouds refuse to break,
In unison. Though our chapel is a beacon,
It is now empty. The signals remain.
We could hear the cries from afar.
Crimson red light flashes across the sky.
As we wonder, are we all going to die?
Silent ashes, veils of ruin, displacement
Spread like hot lava, rushing over russet
Color stains blood on the pavement.
The blood of the system collapses.
Onto life without boundaries that can’t
Be contained, regional empire tectonic
Shift in the fractured border line.
Meanwhile, the reprisal intensifies.
It’s mortified chants: time to die!
This defiance is a persistence to annihilate,
Their existence, a devastating conflict,
Ominous looms in a shaded view.
Strife ravaged, has stripped life out of
A vacuum in this infrastructure population
Now fleeing their homeland.
Migrant echoes remnants of the past, now
Haunts the present; shadows of tomorrow.
With nothing but wounds that never fully heal.
This place was once their residence; every scene
Now fades into decay.
An endemic war cycle; disturbance, systematic,
On an unprecedented scale that persists.
While the people suffer unforgettable years.
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