Battleground

The war is over.
The artillery have ceased their volleys
No more to lay fiery trails
The tanks don't crawl toward some poor soldier's doom
Just sit, empty and still
Planes have vanished from the skyline
A smell of death

The war is over.
The final echo of gunfire fades
The last man breathes his last breath
A stray breeze extinguishes a quietly burning rag doll
Rubble in heaps litters the terrain
A single blade of grass pushes its way toward the sun
And only the rats are left to mark the days

The war is over.
I wake; reach for her; seek comfort in warm, loving arms.
I forgot that she is gone.

The war is over.
And I can't stop screaming.