Dust Hangs Like Smoke Above the Ember Red Field

Blood gathers upon the battlefield until the hollows of the torn earth fill like deep vessels. The ground that received armies, mountains, chariots, and weapons now holds the red consequence of their meeting.

Above it, dust rises in heavy sheets. Feet, wheels, falling bodies, and every new impact keep the air unsettled, spreading a dim covering over the field while fighting continues beneath it.

The poet joins the two colors into one immense image. The blood below resembles heaps of glowing embers, and the dust suspended above them becomes smoke lying over the dead. No ordinary fire is visible, yet the landscape appears to burn through what battle has made of it. Earth is the brazier, the fallen are its terrible fuel, and the moving armies breathe within the haze.

The field glows without flame, red beneath and smoke colored above, like an altar built from the cost of war.