Literature
Even his bones were beautiful.
Flesh or ivory shall be killed no more,
shall no longer be blessed with the heat of summer air.
These shores which once hummed a rythmic tune of calming serenity,
now shouts shadows of destruction on my domain.
I'm crushed.
Under rubble with precious air polluted with dust and debris,
I can no longer see the light of day.
Swallowing, swallowing, choking air,
coating my lungs so thick even the smallest gasp is triumphed.
I remember.
On these very shores,
we were together;
your eyes would glow like the moonlight,
my heart would beath faster than the smallest bug's fragile wings,
and your breath would ebb like the ocean