Victory

The shattered fragments of something beautiful
They are torn asunder and upon each other they turn
Rending and tearing, a relentless hatred who knows no cause
Sacrificing everything to feed the flames of war
But who is the enemy?
“Them” each declares
As they stare into the void from which no answer will ever arrive
They take up the sword
And destroy themselves against an adversary that is not real
Yet they do not
Cannot
Know the shape of the battleground
That thought was the first to be lost
The knowledge that a battle is even being fought
The possibility of caring
Sucked into the abyss where both truth and beauty lie
The abyss whose hunger is insatiable
The abyss whose name is victory
Without caring what victory might mean