Slowly, With Many Lost Days, I Come

And Then It Happens. Up And Down The Row, The Victors Begin To Join Hands. Some Right Away, Like The Morphlings, Or Wiress And Beetee. Others Unsure But Caught Up In The Demands Of Those Around Them, Like Brutus And Enobaria. By The Time The Anthem Plays Its Final Strains, All Twenty-four Of Us Stand In One Unbroken Line In What Must Be The First Public Show Of Unity Among The Districts Since The Dark Days. You Can See The Realization Of This As The Screens Begin To Pop Into Blackness. It's Too Late, Though. In The Confusion They Didn't Cut Us Off In Time. Everyone Has Seen.

It's Strange To Be So Physically Close To Someone Who's So Distant

So It's You And A Syringe Against The Capitol? See, This Is Why No One Lets You Make The Plans.

Remember That Even In War There Is A Time For Restraint. A Time To Hold Back Your Sword.

I’m In A Shallow Hole, Not Filled With The Humming Orange Bubbles Of My Hallucination But With Old, Dead Leaves.