The fresh blood the air is weeping

New lives Death is taking

The stench of decay and hatred

Fills the air.

Once-white tunic

red with blood.

Once-gold hair

Black with gore.

Once-blue eyes

Dark with pain.

Once-pure mind

Filled with shame.

All I knew

Stained by war

All I relied on

Is no more.

I survived.

Me, alone.

But why did I bother?

My life is gone.

-San Carpenter