Dew swept wind hills of May morning
Captured moments in sprinkled droplets
That begged passers by to be collected.
We knew to wait another hour or two
Before stepping into their damp tracks
Lest we become entranced by their tales.

Humanity bled memories into the valleys.

Tiny beetles feasted in the chaotic morning,
Their shells glittered in the gloss of droplets.
When the night's trouble was collected
They'd disguise themselves in a minute or two
Before the songbirds could recite hunting tracks.
It was finally safe to leave our sacred cover.

Humanity bled memories into the valleys
Through the corpses of their fallen brothers.

The glorious warmth of a sunny morning
Reflected in our eyes like twinkling droplets
Of youthful hope. It was our courage collected,
Shared and displayed between only us two,
That we may complete our pilgrimage together
No matter the troubled ground we may cover.

Humanity bled memories into the valleys
Through the corpses of their fallen brothers.
So few survived when kin killed beloved kin.

A journey of miles, trudged through a morning.
Stepping rhythmic, drenched in sweated droplets
And woefully feigning we were calm and collected.
Fear was painted behind our mission worn mask
As we checked the mapped route together,
Arguing the shorter path as we replaced it's cover.

Humanity bled memories into the valleys
Through the corpses of their fallen brothers.
So few survived when kin killed beloved kin,
Too many were martyred by man's monstrosity.

Legs aching from the endless walking morning,
Bodies craving sustenance, but surviving on droplets
Tipped from the final flask of water, and of hope.
You snatched the final sip, cracking under your mask.
It seemed we'd outlasted our journey together,
Our separateness apparently hidden under cover.

Humanity bled memories into the valleys
Through the corpses of their fallen brothers.
So few survived when kin killed beloved kin,
Too many were martyred by man's monstrosity:
Those who fought for the beauty within us all.

We parted with the last seconds of the morning,
Silently wishing the other would reconsider.
Survival now was only built on an anchor of hope
That outlived the violence and psychological masks.
Hope, that final chant uniting the distant together
In a melody no imposter was able to falsely cover.

For humanity bled memories into the valleys
Through the corpses of their fallen brothers.
So few survived when kin killed beloved kin,
Too many were martyred by man's monstrosity.
Those who fought for the beauty within us all
Are anchored beacons of hope in dirty waters.