Grace of War

Through skin and bones
an ethereal cacophony echoed
in time with screams of anguish
filling the streets;
accompanying the shots with harmonic grace.

The conductor stands with outstretched arms
amidst the racing crowd.
With closed eyes and tainted smile
he leads the chaos with undeniable ease.

Between two front lines
the young boy weeps;
adding undertones to the nauseating roar.
He screams.

And at once
the tension is released.
The conductor falters.
The harmony is broken.
And this war
is once again, just a war.

View this story's 1 comments.