Silenced by solemnity i sit,
knowing the bombs will drop soon.
Everything will change
as reality coughs up the phlegm
to absolve this caustic cage of life
i percieve as truth.
I should be smiling
yet there is remorse.
A few hundred passings of sun
i spent, assembling this attack,
so beautiful and rigid
like a shiny scythe readied to reap.
To repair.
Blackened by fabrications
i ready myself for victory
over a war i never wished to wage,
this vessel of pain
i do not pray to share
but obligation impales me.
Time to erase your anchor
and release your foundation.
I am sorry
for this fist of splinters you have to eat,
it's just the way things are,
nothing personal.
Now bleed.
-Svw