A midwinter dream,
the land of living betwixt,
I find mostly serene.

There are days, though, it seems
this land is full of conflict
and less of dreams.

This land of death and screams
where children take their last breaths,
and everyone demands to know what it means.

Take solace in the fact one cannot intervene,
a spot is secured with every death
on the better side of things.

And be thankful, in the end, it is not up to us- you see,
The Lord taketh, and he giveth, and so who the hell are we?
I would much rather remember, than be the one to take away another's dream.