The Day The Birds Stopped Singing (Prelude)

I see a war torn landscape, rubble and debris of a used to be city. Crimson is the color of the sky and of the ground. The color of the shining sun and my skin. I'm covered with the water of life. The life of all my brothers and our enemies.

The air is toxic to breath. No crows or flies dare touch this cursed land. No living thing remains with life.

I find a puddle it reflects the sky with its luminescent clouds. I wonder how any beauty can remain here. Strange I wonder to myself.

How did this war start? How did it come to this?

I look back to the day everything changed. That was a special day. One thing and one thing alone made that day stand out.

I woke up that morning. And all there was was silence. Where were the birds I wondered. And why did they not sing.