I’m sitting, waiting and thinking of you
somewhere that side thinking of me, we know
tonight only one of us will remain
the other will settle his final debt.
In the distance I see a silhouette —
War is raw backwards but raw is a hymn
made of explosions, cracked skulls and splatter,
the rat-tat-tat-tat of guns and kaboom!
The notes to the score for a gruesome dance.
In the distance what I saw disappeared —
All of them said we’d get used to this life
of people falling. But we never do,
because it’s all fantasy, tales adorned
with glory and power and fire and pride
In the distance I hear screams and gunfire —
This Magnum Opus by some unseen hand
an abstract of tissue and human waste
of towering machines crushing the soul
and black birds bowing and picking at things.
In the distance and here it went quiet —
Alone with my thoughts and thinking of us
of we don’t want to die but since we’ll die
probably soon then let’s find a reason
like a family or honour or fear.
In the distance you rose, in the distance you fell.
Originally published at strangeandlove.com.