Shadows

Why do the shadows look bright, almost blood-red?
Strange hues of orange, like fire dancing in the dark
Remind us of the forgotten, whose blood were shed
And of fires we stoke as attack dogs keep up the bark

We forged strange friendships on the altars of deceit
Broke up alliances with those who cared how we fare
So when shadows light up, and we’re feeling the heat
We should not ask each other: “how did we get here?’