Cottage Chronicles

Civil War

The calm has left the method

And the aching serene tugs her shawl.

She's so scared, or better, scarred, the curse is lifted.

A dragon slayed, how do I clean

The bloody disarray.

It's sticking to my skin, I can't wash it off

It is sticking to my mind, and creeps back up

And the clock is a friend, she measure the time

But the time is the devil, shifty and vile

And I don't ask for the happiness, just bring back serene.

To wake up and actually feel, ain't it immature

'You do it even without the feels.'

Well fine but why don't it get better to see?

I should become a nun, probably

Or change my religion and a new identity.

What am I running from, perhaps it's me.

'It will get better, the pain needs time to sear.

Just choose the pain you carry, ladder in your sinking grave.'

I'd choose this every time again, I would sir, but I'm too scared.

The battle is a blink but the war is here.

Does it have to be a war, don't they care?

It shouldn't, perhaps it isn't, then what is all this?

'A civil war', with half the blood and twice the pain,

With half the guns, but twice the graves.

See, I am scared.

The same scared, before the pool at eight.

The same scared on the ride at ten.

The same scared around him at eighteen.

I don't see him. I know he sees me.

I hide and distract, just haunted by the shadows.

And now you say diplomacy failed last year,

And I can't run anymore?

'We don't know what's ahead, you need to prepare.'

A bag and wheels, and I carry my home everywhere.

'It's a war, not a run.'

Yes sir, a civil war. Do they too prepare?

'We don't know, don't disobey.'

It tears, I'm scared of the shadows.

'Is there another way?' No sir.