Blue glass

Blue glass lies before, before there ever was blue glass, beckoning it seems though only old ones can recall, down to the sea to see and saw the great calamity yet to be, holding the branch of tree for me, fashioned until straight as lines can be, yet no protection in a dream, blue glass shatters breaking free the sound now just a memory. A skin of white with hidden hair stood riding on some dead black tree, it's branches high with snapping leaves and dragged across our blue glass sea. Eyes of wonder, eyes of greed reflecting all we've come to be, reflecting blue glass back at me. Fear is feeling that's for sure, feeling more like not before, and not alone we've come to war, yet small and frozen on the shore as blue glass changes back and forth. As not a man I'm armed but treated, waiting as we all are seated, and never shall we turn our backs while dead trees tear and chew apart what once was good and still, the smell the noise was new like death not welcome and yet here anyway, to stay to stay and not forgotten as we're now gone and none replaced, but blue glass always shall remain, yet none remain who care to be.