From the Sky

The night air is cold to the touch,

As I step out my front door,

To the crescendo of fighting,

And my neighbours engulfed in war.

A thousand arrows are flung over the city’s walls,

Setting each and every building alight,

And by the shining of a frowning moon,

I am struck, and my day’s end is in sight.

And now I exist merely to ponder,

And to treasure my very own night,

That will last the length of my life,

With time brought on by another’s fight.

So I collapse to the floor,

The arrow an angry person,

And my body a helpless door,

Such that my condition does worsen.

I feel my conscious slip,

On the arrow that has pierced my heart,

To something with a steel tip,

That severs life apart.

So I imagine what a strong building,

Could be built with all this steel,

That is wasted stealing human life,

And thus I no longer feel.