When the world went to s**t and it was far to clear

I stood.
Still, quiet...alone.
It was a clear evening.
It was far too clear.
For the screaming of mothers and their children and drunken hollers of those who tried to cope resounded just as clearly as the old air-raid sirens and soap-box preachers.
It was far too clear.
The clarity revealed gun shots and ghats, the indisputable sign of a souls last desperate breath.
Drawn, held, and released in a swift sigh.
Everything was calm and everything was chaos.
I guess that is the way things are when you are teetering on the edge of the world.
When you are standing there at the end of time.
when everything is far to clear.