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.