Dishsoap & Milkduds

And as I hear the pulse of death approach I sigh.

I didn't know that this was the fruit of such laborious efforts.  Somehow, someWHERE, I acquired the belief that it all meant something and that life--yes this life--had just rewards for those who sacrificed, bled, and loved.  Somehow I was inclined to think that I, too, would be included in the gaze of favor and I would feel that warmth.

Instead I lie awake nightly whispering softly my hopes for eternal rest.

My questions cease.  My longing snuffed out like a candle flame.  My hopes are truly all that have been put into an everlasting slumber.  They have been lulled by carnage, war, and silence.  

Silence is...silence is the reaper.