Sometimes in the night I see and then it's gone, this dream of mine, dark and nebulous and shining through with stars. Nothing will fill the empty spaces or still the cries. But duty remains.

Let the dead bury their dead.

Let them carry the corpses until the empty spaces are covered over

not filled, never filled

with the remnant that is saved

and mourns, still mourns

for the ones who were lost, the generations that were lost.

gone, all gone

The dead shall pay what they can for the living, for those who will continue.

And rise.