I’m sitting, waiting and thinking of you somewhere that side thinking of me, we know tonight only one of us will remain the other will settle his final debt. In the distance I see a silhouette — War is raw backwards but raw is a hymn made of explosions, cracked skulls and splatter, the rat-tat-tat-tat of guns and kaboom! The notes to the score for a gruesome dance. In the distance what I saw disappeared — All of them said we’d get used to this life of people falling. But we never do, because it’s all fantasy, tales adorned with glory and power and fire and pride In the distance I hear screams and gunfire — This Magnum Opus by some unseen hand an abstract of tissue and human waste of towering machines crushing the soul and black birds bowing and picking at things. In the distance and here it went quiet — Alone with my thoughts and thinking of us of we don’t want to die but since we’ll die probably soon then let’s find a reason like a family or honour or fear. In the distance you rose, in the distance you fell.