Another War

This world terrifies me—sometimes.

It strikes me down

and mortifies me to death where

I am buried,

I am suffocated,

I am drawn

to outer limits

from which I see

the whole phantasmangoria

called life,

called humanity,

called existence


I am pulled back

on a downward beat

of clubs and knives,

life forfeited,

stone flutes broken

for what—

endless barbarians,

nocturnal thieves,

treacherous crucifiers

testing tolerances

we endure

to see seabirds flying

high above the horizon.

They too swoop down

To meet their prey.

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