Futility

Embers
That fly into the night sky
That is all that seems to be breathing
For neither I nor me want to glow bright
As often, it is again
It is a transendence
Yet more retrogressive
I won't fret
For you are a vanishing horizon
As I believed to be
There were no wars
Yet this is a bleed
As such the mind , forever a battlefield
For only the dead know the end of war
The living just seek to slay