The battle is owned by all.
Fallen take my hand as I can stand.
No one is left behind.
Bones of the long forgotten litter the land.
Dragging shards of my battered feelings.
I trudge through drifts of dead emotions.
On the eye scape the horizon of my future.
No cloaked boney finger pointing the way.
Laughter does not reside in my ears.
Echoes of might have beens waft in the air.
My damaged soul survives.