MBH
March 29th0600
The sun invades the night sky
Ambushing a desolate, blood-filled land
Overrun by melancholy
Distant sounds echo with urgency
A scene too eerie for a fallen angel's canvas
A lone soul advances aimlessly
Deeply wounded, but still capable
Concealed scars and scabs expose experience
Eyes overflowing, but sobs substituted by screams of agony
And desires of quick relief
Self worth and preservation crutches to pain's threshold
Used weaponry, evidence of liability
But with such devastation, declaring blame is futile
Many have lost, few are victorious, others still enthralled
Hope... Peace... the first two casualties
War's aftermath? Negative... love's.
Memoirs of a Broken Heart
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