futility of war (Remove filter)
Cold Wind
A cold wind is blowing;
It makes its way in,
It seeps through the brick
And clings to the skin.
It pierces the heart
With icy disdain
And somehow compels you
To look up again.
And when you look up
What is it you see?
No castle, no garden,
No landscape, no tree;
Just untidy death
Of industrial scale.
Now all human life
Is a second-hand sale.
Thursday 9th November 2023 5:13 pm
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