[This is part of an ongoing series. See my ‘Half-Life Story‘ page for more information.]
Prologue – Elegy
Not a day not wrought by sadness profound, nor a night not destitute with regret.
A burning tear for each cold star in the sky, to where hope has escaped.
Joy stands frozen in grief.
All textures of life denied light of day, drenched in forever shadow,
Never again to undo what is wrought, perpetually denied a full breath’s respite.
Liberty stands bound to a post.
We stumble and stagger to the stench of a diminished population.
Only the ignorant speak of verve, vim and vigor,
As it is nothing but a pretense of the foolish.
Life stands still as a corpse.
~Dirge written by an unknown American author
after the United States fell to the invasion.