deepundergroundpoetry.com
War Diary
It's the night 13 of the battle
another night of long bloodbath,
massacre of dreams, of peace.
In the light of the moon
the white noise has been waived,
wounded soldiers (eyes) waiting for Valkyries.
Songbirds blow their trumpets
oscillating and resonating my open bruise
leaving me shaken and aching.
The sun shines bright on my face
and, I guess it is again too late...
...to blow the candles out.
—Ab.C.
another night of long bloodbath,
massacre of dreams, of peace.
In the light of the moon
the white noise has been waived,
wounded soldiers (eyes) waiting for Valkyries.
Songbirds blow their trumpets
oscillating and resonating my open bruise
leaving me shaken and aching.
The sun shines bright on my face
and, I guess it is again too late...
...to blow the candles out.
—Ab.C.
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