Two tunes weaved into one

The first a musical mingling

The  other psychiatry

a loss of awareness of one's identity,

Paralysis,  hysteria, epilepsy.

cobbled streets and smoke

 these long grey days of August

at heart my orthodox soul grieves

amidst  these long echoes of despair

 all the bodies buried there

 

landless

our sons taken

anytime

to return

savages

in the pay of the sultan

 

constantinople

we  bury our christian dead at night

out of sight

of  these  converts

renegade croats, serbs,

who spat on their compatriots

and took the Turkish gold

 

the bodies left behind

out of sight and out of mind

 

memories fast for centuries

faces  ground further

into the mud by 

the 13th SS Handzar brigade

of turncost Croats and Bosniaks

 

NATO bombing holy Kosovo

back to the sixteenth century

so many bodies left behind,

out of sight and out of mind.