There is a crater below, all that does remain,
Of the home I once knew there is only dust.
The life I had manifests inside only as pain,
As the mecha miracles have turned to rust.
There is no savior coming for life is gone,
It disappeared in a instant, no chance allowed.
The darkest point which shines vivid as dawn,
In the silence of my story it is achingly loud.
Alone and without I turn my back on all I knew,
As the toxic dust begins to settle all about.
The chances for escape we had then I now rue,
For in this fool's paradise we were all devout.
All around the new harriers now roam and prey,
As they know only the home kept us in line.
Without its shelter discourse will now stray,
Spiraling backward into a bloodbath divine.
Run fast I may, escape is something I cannot,
As truth is my shadow and hangs on my heels.
And in that crater I dare not look is a spot,
In which I contently watched and ate my meals.
The level guilt is a detail without much merit,
As dead or alive it's a feeling that we share.
We have a letter of scarlet and I must wear it,
For though they were lucky, it seems only fair.
Crack! The harriers are suddenly upon me,
Down on my knees they rifle through my rags.
With the dirt in my face, only now I can see,
As they unfurl their arms and lock in mags.
There is no life left to pass before my eyes,
Only images of gluttony as they count down.
Pulse be damned this death is just more lies,
I was dead long before that crater came round.