Until the End Remembers Your Names

I walk between the lockers, names carved into rust.

Helmets still waiting for heads that turn to dust. I hear your

boots in silence, marching in my skull. Every order I remember

still tastes like blood. I counted every failure like it was

mine to keep. If guilt could pull a trigger, I'd already be

asleep. Maybe I should die. Maybe that's the cost.

Stand where you fell, pay back what I lost. Maybe I should

burn with the names I can't forget. If death is redemption then I