The Aftermath.

 

How many returned? 

In their skin and their bones, 

Their flesh intact, 

Their spirit too. 

And those that did not?

Those that were carried… 

On shoulders, in a box 

Those who could not, like others do….

Stand up or speak a word 

Or sing a song; 

Their tongue now silenced, 

And their once-beating heart too.

Never to open their eyes, 

Or see this mortal tragedy, 

Bear witness to the carnage, 

Or hear the cadavers coo. 

Does it end in regret? 

Or in unmitigated glee? 

To abandon the cold earth, 

For the embrace of a Valkyrie?