Saturday, December 20, 2014

To the soldier.

In a far-far land
of sand and sun
amidst the fired bullets
and falling bombs;

you tremble.

Not of fear
But the cold
That runs through your spine
turning once warm eyes
into icy cold.

And it can’t hold.
the humanity:
that writhes in you
it’s last.

you drift to abyss.
death and dying
blood and sweat
love and hate.

and when all cries and noises
turn into a dreadful silence!
A winner; surrenders!
dripping in others blood
trying to crawl away
from an oblivion.

at that moment,
As you reach for your scruples    
in that far-far land
of sun and the sand,
I twist and turn
To fit into the jigsaw puzzle

Of your battered confusion.