No more poignant photographs.
No more signs of the times.
No more war stories.
No more scars with stories.
No more stories that scar.
No more futures dashed.
No more glass smashed.
No more Heroes.
No more ‘we rose
From the ashes.
The ashes will be too thin,
Blown too far apart by the toxic winds.
This cannot be a remix
Icarus eyes have killed the Phoenix.

There is no future,
There is no past,
When we face the atom blast.