I reach for sunlight,
to tear destruction from my sight,
and grant a life of reprise.
I had tried to leave the battlefields behind me,
missing legs and cartoon titans, scanlines of hatred
and the
dull drone of machinery as it collapses behind me;
weary, twisted metal.
The
thoughts were in code as the monitors gleamed,
the
metal ground through burnt meadows,
explosions in the distance surrender to apathy,
the cities, in a parody of twisting metal,
their majesty is left in shambles.
They attempt defense, but success
surrenders too,
our icons have been twisted,
the lawless roam and the efforts against them retire,
we have always tired of their images.
but now I stand,
now the fields lie before me, strewn with the defeated,
filled with their
hollowed footsteps.
Muddied uniforms lie crushed;
miles away, I still hear their trampling,
the crush of metal against tired pavements.
as days still pass,
I lie curled by a fire,
in still-soaked clothes; rain, rain is just as unforgiving
as our
sustenance is harsh.
but sleep overtakes the weary, no matter how cautious
so the hints of dawn are unacknowledged,
so their approach goes unnoticed.
I wake to
her closest footstep,
the crushing pounce onto my legs
as my shoulders tear upwards. I stare, stunned,
wide eyes and a
gaping mouth
at weathered glass, bringing a sunlight into my eye,
at the fire tearing through the air before me.
Her white face greets me, black eyes glare, unforgiving,
her whiskers only taunt me.