Tuesday, November 17, 2009

Feeling Down?

There were cold nights,
the guns silent,
their barrels chilled and muted,

the sky havoc
with dancing particles,
of dust or something else,
like the empty bottles
strewn about our feet,
illuminated by our sorrow

time covers distances
transversed by

waiting for the sun,
the white clouds,
the smell of flowers
soon to be trampled
under fallen bodies,
we sleep
without any alternative.

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