Over There, Is A Place Of Carnage. Poem by Kevin Familia

Over there, is a place of carnage.
That place where the trees fade.
Where the spoils from previous rulers echo.
That echoes like the thunderous noise of battle.

The victory's call out but there is no response.
The losses cry out and praise comes from the kings of crimson.
Those kings of crimson, how outspoken they are, like broken pieces!
I felt on that day the darkness crawling from their faceless heads.
Their unspeakable horrors are horrendous places they've seen.

'Where is the wealth and the prosperity! '
'Where is the conquest and times of old that walk inside our bodies! '
They don't know they are blind, unspoken, and misery triumphs inside!
Those kings of crimson cannot tell of any victories, even the thought of hope!
People walk through them, they shout 'Justify the ways of old! '.
But no one hears them through a mist, in a liable world.

I gazed upon them for a while only over that place of carnage!
I saw a few that had deep dark faces pouring over their ruined robes.
I yelled, exposing myself to the darkness of the misty ground.
I became like one of the kings of crimson taken to the lies and silenced!
Carnage a place glorified, victory replaced by a jagged pound of distress!
Where the only praise heard is of losing wars, coming from the dark ground.

Like me they speak with a voice, static, distorted and rigged!
Like me they were crowned with crooked, deep, edged, dreaded spikes!
Like me they walked, shouting inside, unseen and unspoken by people!

Ask why, and our faces are mystified by them.
They control the places full of broken shards of deceitful lies
Ask what this place is, and our faces are horrified by them.
To what end are their motives, by restraining forcefully, truths?
No one knows, not even those who have a face!

What control of power do they have upon me? !
No one knows, not even those who have a face!
These crowns upon us dwindle on that place of carnage!
That they may have no meaning upon them!