calamity at its worst
ended in calm silence.
what was left on
the battlefield
is a stench
we involuntarily
walk away from.
you stand so triumphantly
just before
the disgraceful trek home.
i wave a white flag
to ease your guilt,
with your back already turned
my intentions overlooked.

impatient for the smoke to clear,
what we fail to wait for
is forgiveness

we turn and walk towards
our own familiar grounds.
just before we
finally understand
this now misplaced peace.