In the dark there are whispers,
in the smoke there is
a timbre to your voice
and the walls reverberate with gunfire as
I am relieved of all duties
pertaining to
you.

Somewhere a raven raises its midnight head
and the moon splits itself in two
an angel falls from grace to an untimely death
and the sea hides its face
from the plum purple
sky.

Another tragedy for the story of time
another casualty in an intangible war
that has claimed more than Caesar or
Alexander combined
and will again without remorse
on and on
into eternity.

Did you hear it?

Another one just hit the floor.

Blood-soaked and cold,
he never even saw it coming.