Battle Poem by Victoria Hardy

It was a Sunday
Probably an afternoon
Somewhere between
The good and the bad.

Up was the sky
With thousand hopes
Shining eternally
For the sake of life

Now was the time
Even the sun's fire
Surrendered slowly
Turning everything into pink
Blushing perhaps
Before escaping
The one and only star
Of nights.

A beautiful battle it was
To watch.
For there were no winners
Nor victory.
Just a story
Without an ending.

Then was the time
She caught hope
In that flow
For she realised that
Her screams would only echo
And echo
And got silent
Before they were heard.