STÜ - NEW YORK Blues | Page 10

Aqua skies of calm home are replaced with the volcanic eruptions of The End. The End of the Line. The End to War, to All Wars Artillery fires from the sky, thrown from the Arms of Zeus. Thundering fists throwing lightning across the putrid sky. I see his fingers dance from the Heavens, swinging like planes that slowly droop and crash into the soulless ground. Playing with toy soldiers like a child in his room, he builds them from mud and leaves them to fall back into the ground like leaves. A flashing signal that illuminates the sky, illuminates the clouds of death that swarm into ravines and cover holes in the ground filled with men. I hide with those men and lose my bones to the black helmeted armies of Hades approaching on the line. These are not men, soldiers with eyes made of fire, and hearts forged from red brimstone,ignited by their lust for blood. 9