Acrimony
The shrill whistling of a bird overhead.
A signal to start the song of sorrow.
A child asleep, unaware of airborne lead.
The river murky with shattered buccaro.
On the horizon a heroic knight.
He still wonders if he will see the morrow.
Elsewhere there continues the wretched fight.
A passerby might mistake it for a play.
Hatred sparked and fed by petty spite.
Pitiable souls who succumb as Wrath's prey;
their lives were forfeit on that forsaken day.














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