Like Fresh Tendrils

What remains of the life we knew? Once red and ripe, now begrudgingly bruised Dense clouds of carnage merge with musky mildew As embers infuse the desolate, scorched sky A glimmering white flag dances and captivates my eyes While my empty ears are exhausted by the drab drone of combatants’ cries Old-world remnants, soft and serene Nowhere to be found in this ghastly scene We are shells of who we were, blighted and blind Mercilessly maligned, the only truth we find A jagged pill that we can’t swallow Our fathers have fallen, and we have no one to follow Youthful exuberance, starting to falter Rejecting, false hope, failing, wailing, curtailing Blasphemously blackmailing one another Brothers, bonded by blood, betraying each other Former bonds and allegiances flung into the gutter Shuddering, a dynasty starting to shutter Tracing the trail to truce, a trying tribulation Forsaken families floundering on fragile foundations Shaken, aching, under this chastening undertaking Lament, like fresh tendrils flourishing unencumbered Dynastic dignity plundered, a nation torn asunder