Fallen

Dreaming....

The streets,
Oh my gosh the oh so familiar streets
painted red or is it not paint at all?
No not paint, but the blood of ones who have fallen.
The fallen, and the fallen to be pain here and the ones who are already here.
But no, how are there more
Then I hear a boom outside if my life's chamber doors and now all is shattered and gone.
I breathe trying to take in as little life as I could trying desperately to muster up enough strength to refill my collapsing lungs as I taste the smoke on my lips.
The taste is so bold I can feel its sharpness like knives cutting into my weakened lungs slowly piercing every last speck of my soul I could ever think to keep hidden away under lock and key,
But only for a second, then it was gone like every other thing in my life gone, gone, gone...shredded to pieces like now my unheard cry for help only it wasn't an audible cry.
It was only a cry that was audible to me and the monster that dwells inside of me could hear,
But now like before, everything is gone....gone....gone....