Reduced To Chitin

The heavens rained bullets
So we took praying for a shot.
We got on our knees in our hydrated clothes,
Our morale bled like ink
From our no-postage hopes
That forever lived in our flak jackets.

Our family lines were brackets
On a tree being broken, branch by branch
To make the arrows that went
Straight through our hearts,
While the rest were used for the monotone letters
Sent to our loved ones to tear them apart.

We whispered heavy hymns
That condensed at the top,
Through our mouths, dry as chalk.
Drip,
Drop,
Rain
Stops.
The clots in the sky are hushed for the night
So we rush to the source to find out who is alright.
And the T.V. spoke of some special kind of war,
It said, "Ask me no questions and I'll tell you no lies."