A Photograph of Beyond

I was asleep when the mutation happened
I was awake when the carnage had ended.
As I pitched myself from the sheets of slumber
And prepared me a cup of milk,
The raw blisters from the dream
Stung both my eyes and flesh;
Looking outside, the quiet arrested
my peace of mind.
I stood there listening
To the post-operative hum of destruction
Until my feet turned cold,
Then white, then blue.
Was I supposed to be standing there
And remain the same?