Communal Space
Warriors young and old travel many of the same paths.
What is this alluring place, where red and blue meet? With a cindered path,stretching beneath our feet. Torricelli's trumpet, is seldom here to greet. Crusted tears dry upon hardened faces, naked skin reddens from scorching heat. Lambs who were led to slaughter,bleat. Life's blood escaping, as hearts and veins deplete. Miasmas permeate the mind like mace, memories revealed, are mostly anything but sweet. Gutters filled,ov...