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A hint of gold
Clenched by white gnarled knuckles
The only identifying feature of the mass uncovered
One among many, on and on
Ghost with shovel, wearing a grim mask
Praying they don't recognize empty staring eyes
On the edge of the pit
A soldier kneels clenching a letter
A eulogy spoken to himself
For a generation reduced to embers and scattered to the wind
One among many, on and on
Ad infinitum
No escape from this hell on earth
A spear plunged deep into the empty shell
Airbust down pressure burning away the skin
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Flags of war flying freely
Against a blood-red sky
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Tanks plowing forward, ever on towards eternity's gate
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Goose stepping solders, marching in step with nationalistic pride
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A knife carving out a fascist cancer, before it has time to spread