She thought She’d got us all
was finished

But broken bodies rise
pointing at Her

She tries to move
but they force Her back
make her own Herself

Then She feigns pride
and indifference

But broken fingers
continue to point

Bloody gazes
continue to stare

She screams (tearfully)
Her defiance

Her only answer
is silence

She starts a new war

The old broken bodies
collapse and decay
at the sound of marching boots

The new broken bodies
have not yet arrived

For Her it’s a reprieve
War is peace
when the Warrior Goddess’s
conscience is not yet dead