A complex; standalone
A shade of monochrome
-in the visceral war zone
A shield becomes a home

I sit in contemplation
Compelled by isolation
Abandoned indignation
A train stuck at the station

A fog of midnight blue
A baseless, abysmal hue
No heed for what to do

A distance from the crowd
Held in cerebral shroud
No feelings were aloud
The knight was just too proud

A mission to remember
The pains of last November
Was not one with the gender
You cannot be too tender

Insipid disconnection
Can find no resurrection
The self forgets retention
Plunged from its own discretion

In the end, I am not sane
There is no purpose
Life is in vain
All things are worthless
No care to feign
I lose inertia
I end the game