Questioning the quiet front

Does silence hint the war is over?

Peep over the barricade

Hold your helmet on tight.

There use to be a bridge from here to there

But only crumbled rock rustles that air.

-

There stands a gapping hole

You step right to the edge

Empty but for rubble

Of the bridge now broken.

Complete stillness but for your heavy breath

Search the skies for those escorted by death.

-

You face the sun, it rises lowly

Red light lit your way

Dust floated down

Landing on those forgotten faces.

Fresh death never knows

The sorrow in others it sews.

-

Your enemy he lays cold

“What made us raise our arms?”

An order, a suited man,

A superficial disagreement,

A miscommunication, or there lack of.

You wipe his face with the inside of your glove.

-

Others rise from beneath the blockades

Blink once, twice, Survey the land.

Like Prairie dogs unnecessarily alert.

A crowd soon builds round.

You sigh. So far from sanity

Yet you walk on, so close to reality.