Damages

The morning light, its blue-gold hue,
higlights the destruction made by you.
Scratches, scars, bruises,
broken limbs, cuts and blood.

Surveying the carnage, I cannot help but stare.
Through a mass of blood, I see an entwined pair,
clutching each other for short relief
as they know they can never rest in peace.

'Look what you have done' I shriek.
The voice of a banshee from my chest leaks.
You turn to face me,
I see no tear upon your cheek.