It was a terrible day to be alive but not a good day to die and the choice was harder than I had thought. I left the carnage and took off running heading up the nearest grade until dark fell and all that was visible were hellish flames lighting up the fountains of smoke rising farther than I could see ,up above the treeline , hiding the stars from view. I was bleeding and exhausted from the days of slaughter and lay down behind a stump descending into black and deep unconsciousness.
       When I awoke the sun was trying to rise behind the inferno and struggled to penetrate the smoke .When there was enough light I saw that all sides in the battle had surrendered and were leaving with their torn and shattered war flags dragging along the ground behind them. The soon to be dead reached out  and pleaded for recovery but all the torn survivors shuffled slow and deaf on the way home to claim victory and revel in the defeat of the infidel devil armies that would dare to seek their own domain in this time of domination.
         To my left I heard so many of the powerful wandering in rough and ragged circles, arguing who now would lead and who might be the followers .They spoke with varied tongues and the arguments lost themselves in mumble. I turned again and saw to my right determined men and women sharpening their war swords and cackling over  the blood that oozed from the open wounds of the prey that already was  captive. Their leader had a tongue that flickered and spat steaming yellow bile as all his people cheered at every utterance and waved banners that read “volunteers blood and money”.
          I began to walk down the hillside as four horsemen rode by on a funnel cloud , one glared back at me and the others stared to the East at smoke and embers rising from a minaret ,and with a banshee howl they left when  the sky parted for their entrance.
          A haggard teacher approached me ,thin as a starved survivor and told me that his fate was fast becoming fiction that flickered in black and white, while he  showed me scars carved as crucifixes on his chest and face.
           I looked south and watched the warships sailing out as widows wept and waved with pride while foghorns blew glory and the shadow leader stood in salute at the futile heroes kneeling down to receive his praise and worship idols cast in metal and worn upon his chest. As the sky grew dark again from a hellish belch of corruption smoke and wailing ash and fire.
           A  putrid stench of dying drove me back up to the ridge and I saw the other side  where the view was of vines and fields running straight in peaceful lines and colors. Where the leaves were changing hue becoming serene and calming. Where riches can be counted and no voices cry in pain. I need to rest my eyes and soul in the early morning cool lonely in my penance and shattered by a nightmare.

                      I sit here on my outcrop
                       And make room for you beside me
                      When we hope that we’re forgiven
                       As we watch the blue dawn rising
                       And the morning warms our skin
                       But I’m not afraid of crying
                       And I’m damned if I’ll be silent
                        If my guilt is still apparent
                        As we watch a new life starting
                        In the Valley of the Moon.