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Where do i go from here?
When all this is over
and the civil war done
we pull back from fireign land
with no profit won
no further knowledge of ourselves
and only the mine fields left
after all the soldiers are packed
in crates
desolate
the field will lie
How to sleep
without the bombs whistle
guns blast
and cries of agony from
the innermost workings of ourselves
Do I
march home to no drumbeat
and expect to be donned a hero
or
walk past the haze and battlefields
to wage new war
on unsupecting hearts
stealing beauty
like a trained pickpocket, who
understands
the frivolity of the art.