My feet hurt
I have been walking for weeks
Barefoot
Through ashes, eggshells and mud
Away from the cursed place.
I try not to look
At the stakes aligning the road

But I hear the dripping
Of blood from their mutilated limbs
Onto the ground
Like ink
I smell weapons piercing organs
Slashing veins
Quills puncturing eyeballs
And bloated egos
The sweet smell of iron
In my nostrils
I taste it, the blood
The deceit
Every breath makes me sick

But I continue my journey
Tattered wings dragging
Leaving ****** trails
On every leaf
Although exhausted
And ruined
I walk on
With him by my side
Knowing that what I did
Mattered