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Sifting Sands

hungry hourglass happens
human helplessness--
humanity hastes, hangs, hovering
between bottomless boundaries
bouncing, bobbing buoyantly
but back below
sands sift with shifting sorrows-
sunsets sink senile-- so,
how do hating humans have hope?
temporal time turns turnips into topsoil--
topsoil into tar-pits,
a tale that is told
by battling bugs boasting
of being bold beings
above & b...

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hopehope not hatetime in a bottletime passes by

OVER

 

 

 

OVER

 

Fallen warriors of all nations, now only bones and memories, I remember you.

In your hour of need you became great for a moment, doing your duty for a higher power, you, just mere men.

Being asked to do the unthinkable, to kill or be killed in the glaring cauldron of battle.

I will never know what it was like, to be good or bad, to be in battle. All ...

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