By: T.K. Flicek
Crusted pages ripped from time lay scattered under the many still bodies.
The air whispers her cold cries as Death walks amongst the living.
No longer the days doth man grow old or children surpass the aged.
Rest does not come to Death…weary be his days as the walks amongst the living.
Twisted bodies lay in mangled heaps where faces of innocence fail to reflect the beauty of their youthful shells.
Death doth not wonder “why?” or “how?” but continues to pass in stride as he walks amongst the living.
As the present fades into the past, a tragedy doth unfold…
“One Nation
under none,
divided by hate,
and justice long gone.”
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