Star-studded Mindfield

My forest - now turned battlefield -
has been shrouded with such a
daunting impression of despair.
shadows are no longer casted upon the ground,
but instead lay down, lazily
in a land that we could once call home
in the skeletal bodies
which, at a time, were our own.

in the center of it all i stand,
stock-still -- reserved.
stretched across the desolation,
i see prickling points of light,
refusing to bend.
such veritable proofs of life

in this contemplative state,
i pan my head far and wide
across the fields, left and right,
always avoiding those eyes
so listless
lest i be struck with the lightning quickness
of realization,
and the judgment ensuing.

afraid to step forward,
too frightened to fall back,
where else to withdraw
besides in my mind
where im already so deep?

is this
soaring death-toll
proof enough of my loss?
have you witnessed the bloodshed
and body count
so much that you're numb?

must i invite you up here -
this emotion-studded
minefield -
for you to grasp
this holistic
and ever-permeating
sense of defeat,
or shall i just tell you
by means of anonymous
transmission?