Tuesday, 27 June 2017

1000 Yard Glare

You said: "Nothing will change.
Nothing will.

Yet as the summer past is
usurped by the summer present
I am weighted by the vastness
of a train which passed us
an axe on rails
a snake wrapped twice around my gut
and thrice around my lung.

Perhaps I should have listened less
to the vibrant verses of your tongue
scorned cynically your guileless zeal
your adamant ideals.

You were the fresh recruit
waving high the flag of Love

but the war did what it always had
just as Love does what it always has.

The ringing in your ears
as if blasted by a panzer,
is a thing not thought
compared to knocking on a heart
and having noone answer.

Now we stand estranged,
how could nothing ever change?

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