Through fires, smoke, the stench of bombs, the moon was war torn and blue.
Alone, dazed, shell shocked, grieving, my heart was too.
My life destroyed, my mind numbed, my hopes shattered.
They bombed the hell out of my beautiful city and killed my Anastasia,
who bled to death in my arms in seconds, helpless to help her.
My sweet angel, my love who had accepted my proposal of marriage
before the bombs fell and turned our city and our love into rubble.
My world a nightmare without her, a godforsaken, war torn hell.
Crazed with rage I marched into battle to avenge my sweet angel Anastasia.
Nothing left, my life over, like an insane Viking berserker I’d lost my fears and become like a crazed beast.
The enemy troops fear dying, but I don’t, a noble death reunited with Anastasia.
Dying is all I have left. I’m empty and soulless inside marching through
this dystopian nightmare of dead corpses and dead dreams.
The cadence of a thousand determined boots marching summons
me to war under a blue moon that’s as broken as I am.
Bombs explode around me, soldiers and civilians screaming and dying.
I fight the battle raging and fearless, indifferent to the horrors,
like a bulletproof immortal protected by the gods of war.
The battle ends; we win; still alive I collapse on the battle ground,
the stench of gun power permeating the smoky air,
blood running in rivulets in the streets.
And I cry countless tears for my sweet angel, my love, my wife … Anastasia.
Bob Boyd
