Ending

A hallway freshly emptied
Of people matured since their introduction.
A scratchy bowl
Holding keys to
Decades of Memory.
A dark room, a table
And a broken man standing alone.
Blood tainting the frozen ground
Spreading pink snow.
A brother holding the mangled body
Of a sister.
The East wind whipping
Around two men.
And to think it all started from
Three children breathing again
After seven years of war.

-A

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