Bombs
Dropping
On
Heavy
Hearts
Forgotten
   And blown away
        In
            The cold
                 Icey
                      Air.

Scars
On legs

Scars
On arms

Scars
On wrists

Scars
On minds

and Scars
On Hearts

Blue;
Almost black.
Like a lake in mid-November;
Waves lapping at the shore--
A white page.

Black waves on a rough,
Sharp,
Paper.
You're alone.
The world is empty.
It's just you,
The world,
And the black-blue ink waves.
Lapping,
Lapping, on the white
Page.
The white,
Empty,
Page.

Watching
watching over the world
  with an icy blue gaze
   raking it through and through