Season of Glass

A dystopian poem

Rows upon rows of glazed adolescents
Tender in years and in innocence
Entering a war that no one foresaw
Battle lines drawn, each one a mountainous flaw

Colors blur in the agitated hegemony
A kaleidoscope in a world of acrimony
Blank looks from shattered souls
Each in an act so foul

Shattering into a continuous fragment
Pieces mixed in obvious lament
For they fight for a cause someone believed in
Not caring if it were a mortal sin

A long period of transparent bloodshed
Stain the youth from foot to head
Once broken can never be mended
Into a single society, no one will ever be blended

Molded and weaved into grotesque sculpture
Children, after all, are trivial to rupture
The end is near for these delicate beings
Life as we know it holds no meanings