found in a plane that relentlessly crashes repetitively into an unchanging summit, tribulation now a monotonous trial that infrequently adds or subtracts a minor detail that, in the grander scheme of things, makes no difference to the ultimate conclusion. she can predict the route these battles will take, the directions shrapnel will fly to a near accurate estimation, despair is getting lazy & that is never [ g o o d ]. awareness heightened, it is known that demons strike when they believe they are underestimated. these are lowly pawns, scraps thrown to the underdog, that this unclassified piece fights 'pon this checkerboard battlefield, the queen has yet to show her face & their king is in hiding.
& she reaches a point where she is no longer [ c r a s h i n g ], but drowning in the disposable distractions that they have sent, or she would be if they, despite sheer, 'overwhelming' numbers, professed anything that would suggest a significant challenge. no more than pests doomed to fall as quickly as they rise, she stands amongst ashes & bones, & they fall one by one like the birds shot down from a crystalline sky when there are no clouds to obstruct the hunter's vision, until there is only [ o n e ]. one left standing amongst the rubble & the dust, one who has not moved since their untimely arrival, one quite unlike those she has eliminated, & the child born in the chaotic destruction of an unrecognised war does not raise the canon, that is bigger than herself by several inches, to the stranger that is no current threat, & they are met with silence.