Submissions by Khaius

Lungs release ephemeral spirits,
Flitting before eternal banishment.
Rosy cheeks and curt skirts
Shiver with each quick little step.

Headlights pierce fragile mists,
As glacial hands comfort glacial hands.
My eyes tear with the wind and the speed
And the beauty,
On this cold December morning.

The virgin earth has been tainted crimson
By sacrifice. Alas a thousand tears
Will not sway fate’s judgement. Win some, lose some
As my father would say, who drank his beer
Recollecting the bravery and ambition
And romance and honour of his own wars.
Father, the dark nature of attrition
Is desperate waste, a war without cause.

The iron machine has defiled the land.
Say a prayer for the poor man, left writhing
In his own trench, cursing all he once loved.
Bullet in shoulder, iron shard in hand
He weeps at his own solitude, crying
‘I...