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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. Ghosts with shovels, 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 Airburst down pressure burning away the skin. Blink, Flags of war flying freely, against a blood red sky Blink, Tanks plowing forward, ever on towards eternity's gate Blink, Goose stepping soldiers, marching in step with nationalistic pride Blink, A knife carving out fascist cancer, before it has time to spread.