Sometimes in the night I see and then it's gone, this dream of mine, dark and nebulous and shining through with stars. Nothing will fill the empty spaces or still the cries. But duty remains.
Let the dead bury their dead.
Let them carry the corpses until the empty spaces are covered over
not filled, never filled
with the remnant that is saved
and mourns, still mourns
for the ones who were lost, the generations that were lost.
gone, all gone
The dead shall pay what they can for the living, for those who will continue.
And rise.