The morning light, and the first light of birth

Are they the inviting arms of a friend

Or the invading arms of Big Bertha

Firing her shells straight at our eyes; the end

Of all resistance. Curtains can’t defend

Against their speed and distance. Like trumpets

That call us on the day of doom, portend

Hell’s darkness falling soon, each sunray hits

The nerves like cannonballs hit walls, and its

Curtains for Fort Utopia, murder

Of innocent and not-so-innocent

The screams ring out as dreams are smashed to bits

And now our plight’s revealed, is it still worth

Our fighting on, or must we surrender?