The Wind

The wind blows colder when the sun shines upon blood.

I've seen plenty of battlefields, where all that remains of those willing to lay down their lives for their flag are laid bodies and no flag.

There's a wind that only blows across such places, that chills you to the bone, no matter how you hide from it. A wind that carries upon it the weight of every death caused by generals not on the field, plotting tactics across paper.

I know you the wind well. It follows me everywhere. And I add to it a lot every single day.