Evening sun falls on the Western lands and a peculiar stillness hangs in the air. Frozen faces, their jaws set and eyes blank, hang amidst a mass of silent screams and instinctual, animal howls. Flesh rises red, blue and black and arcs of claret fly from worked stick bludgeons. Spheres of red and orange burst, posey-like, over bared chests and bloodied noses and those who have already tasted their kiss kneel, bloodshot eyes asking 'why' even as they are blinded with tears.
Not far away wrinkled folk and not-grown folk and the fit and the maimed pause over the simple necessities. Hands raise to mouths, cupping steaming sweet sustenance, and pairs of hands fling covers to shelter and warm. Others huddle around motionless flames, basking in light and life, reassuring radiance. Across the dirt, other figures mirror these people, with hands of hot spiced waters, bodies wrapped in reeds against the wind.
One group and another, they think of family and simple comforts. They chatter with people they know and people they don't, they forget about the weight of the world around them and think of home and their lives beyond this one moment in history.
Not far away wrinkled folk and not-grown folk and the fit and the maimed pause over the simple necessities. Hands raise to mouths, cupping steaming sweet sustenance, and pairs of hands fling covers to shelter and warm. Others huddle around motionless flames, basking in light and life, reassuring radiance. Across the dirt, other figures mirror these people, with hands of hot spiced waters, bodies wrapped in reeds against the wind.
One group and another, they think of family and simple comforts. They chatter with people they know and people they don't, they forget about the weight of the world around them and think of home and their lives beyond this one moment in history.
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