When a tree falls in a forest

In every battle
of arms or the heart,
we don’t return home
unscathed,
we lose a part of ourselves,
sometimes a sliver,
sometimes a hide,
sometimes a moral,
sometimes a soul.
 
On the darkest nights,
when I stare from my window
at the desolate streets,
I see
spineless, heartless, soulless creatures
roaming aimlessly
like voiceless remnants
of an emotional apocalypse.