One fortress blocked off the way to warmer pastures,

the bitter expressions of its mercenaries

frostier than the frozen desert around them.

This bleak biome was the site of human exodus across the wasteland.

At night, shooting stars passed over humanity in the cloudless sky.

Some of the hopeful wished on the meteors while sneaking along.

The mercenaries focused on making their own stars to shine upon the barren earth.

When the fortress’ light overwhelmed that of the cosmos, the heavens turned dark.

During the day, binoculars glared out at the vast expanse:

not the tool of an observer, but of a hunter.

Many people died alone and exposed, while

others were captured and imprisoned.

The lucky few who survived moved along;

their persecution did not end there in the land of hardened hearts.

Inside the fortress, cages dominated floor space and

people got lost in bureaucratic plagues,

detained indefinitely.

But one day, salvation came.

A dry wind and a ball of light moved through the compound.

One by one, the mercenaries ceased to be

and the people were free.