Wages of war

The world is changed.

Much that once was is now lost.

Black ash smolders from a life he once knew.

A broken heart and a tattered mind are all that remain.

The blue flames crackle and pop as it roars through his dying soul.

A race ensues!

A mad dash between hope and fate.

Which will slap Hell’s door first.

The pain behind these eyes is a pain you wish not to see.

For living on the edge has never been free.

There is no raft in sight as he lay drowning in the burning light.

His crumpled frame gazes upon the zigs and zags of wounded flesh.

The very flesh that led him here.

To this moment.

Freedom isn’t free ‘oh please’ I hope you hear me.

For their time will soon arrive when they can bat their eyes and clap their hands, watching his life slip through the sands.

Vengeance will be served cold until his dying days of old.

Some will stay but most will go, in the end you fight alone.