flickering in futility

Flickering in futility, eye light vanishes at last.
Lubricant long gone from musket’s length,
horror after horror has turned muscular men
into bawling boys.

Carmine comets, too numerous to count, rain
downwards until no consoling bullets remain.

An involuntary babysitter, bereft of his blanket,
tends a makeshift graveyard until buttress’ come.

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