bare & waste left for those
who have yet to know
their fate or simple inexistence
how little they matter
until they are the sons of daughters;
the children of the damned
________________________________________
harpsichord! play us a song
for the dead on your distinguished-
extinguished keys! we'll listen close
for the plucking sounds as your ivory
is poached and plundered. and oh how
the sound of your dead symphonies
is keeping us awake.
________________________________________
spirited, nonsensical banter
spit out like a bitter taste
we'd rather not have at our
lips; this natural anthem,
this unfounded-ungrounded
parade of power kegs
and headless legs....
we are soldiers
fighting for fightings sake
along the 49th parallel.
we've been run through
by the invisible line that divides
this continental, situational irony.
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1 comment:
Υou actually make it ѕeеm so easу with уour presentation
but I find thіs matteг to be really ѕomethіng which I think
I would never undеrstand. Ιt seems tоο сomplіcated аnd extremеly broаd for me.
I am looking forωaгd fоr your next poѕt, Ӏ will tгy tο get the hang of it!
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