Standing among the ruins.
The child looks to the west, as the sun sets upon the land
And smoke billows from the ruins.
Many thoughts collide and fill the child’s mind.
Thoughts no child should carry.
Standing alone, afraid to look.
Afraid to ask anything.
Tired arms hold all that is left of this life.
The life sniffs the air and hides beneath their paws.
Knowing what has happened, howling at the blood red, war torn sky.
A tear falls from both of their eyes.
And then nothing is left.
Photo from Depression Time
