When day arrives, we ask ourselves where we can find peace in this continuous war.
The death we carry, a battle we must control.
We’ve clutched the scorch of the monster.
We’ve realised that stillness is far from harmony
and the bravery and dominance of what is shown isn’t always meant.
And yet, the rise of evening is here before we knew it.
Somehow we’ve done it.
Somehow we’ve experienced and observed a world that isn’t shattered
but is clearly incomplete.