As the moon found its way to the sky, the crowd began to spill in. Chatters about how this will be a new start drowned the screams of a skeptical man, and the extravagant lights towered over the burning stars; we forget that they exist.

I watched the short castle walls and bobbing skulls. How lucky are these children that they have not lost their heads;

for the mannequins had half their head mutilated. It wasn't a pity- they needed no eyes, they didn't have a soul anyway. It's funny how they looked pleasing to the human eyes though. So hauntingly beautiful, like an incomplete work of a deranged artist.

I wonder if they had forgotten to take down the christmas decorations, or if it was newly hung for the new year. The lights seemed to drip down scrawny fingers; the tree must have inhaled rusted air from the killing machines on the road.

I could already picture crowds downtown getting ready for a countdown to nothing meaningful. As they release the fireworks into the skies, it shall catch the undivided attention of wandering eyes. Tired eyes light up at the sight of explosions and the smoke cling so tightly to their skin without them knowing. They're lucky smothered skin doesn't complicate their breathing. Or are they not? At least no one will consider getting under their skin anymore.

5! 4! 3! 2! 1!

oh another night has passed, but why hasn't the sun risen?