The final count,

after the conflict,

of those left standing.

A sum of hollow, empty vessels,

not feeling the aftermath,

for the souls of the dead

carried the souls of the survivors

away with them when they took flight.

The final count,

of those left standing.

Looking beyond the carnage,

no longer able to imagine

what man once built

in that place where he dwelt,

constructed by desire and philosophy.

The final count,

of those left standing.

The absolute scorecard designed

to identify the victors,

when all bloodshed and hostility cease.

Those left standing,

declared the heirs to triumph,

and to them is bequeathed desolation.

By Linda Imbler

From: United States

Website: http://lindaspoetryblog.blogspot.com

Instagram: imblerpoet2020

Facebook URL: https://www.facebook.com/limblerpoet