Secrets Of The Battlefield
© Surazeus
2019 01 03
When silver mist floats over silent fields
where warriors once battled to rule the land
these tears their children weep evaporate
and sparkle on blades of grass in blue dawn.
The river of hope gushing from their eyes
swirls around all obstinate obstacles
to spread out on the desolate plain of lies
and water waste land of their blinding rage.
Their bodies lie sprawled across the wet grass,
staring up from ravines of brutal loss
to smile at blue sky of their enemies
and remember why hawks fly among clouds.
Their children push against their rotting hearts
and tear out of their chests with hungry hands
to wear their battle-torn skins as new clothes
while they walk together in silent mist.
Roots of flowers and trees pierce their rotting hearts,
devouring mute despair of bitter loss,
and transform their bodies into bright blossoms
that whisper eerie spells in amused breeze.
Before the blue sky was their enemy
they talked together about laughing rains
so the soil of their bodies in broad fields
soaked raindrops to hide from the thirsty sun.
When will you give us rain, they sang and danced,
but the silent sky stared down into their eyes,
so they faced each other on sun-baked field
and stabbed each other so blood soaked the land.
Now their bodies sink into the dry soil
and their blood soaks the world with aching hope
so the children of old enemies mate
and bear children who forget that they fought.
The children of enemies sit by trees
and gaze at the blue sky through tangled limbs
then kiss soft as pink petals in sunlight
and give each other secret names of love.
Their children stand around the shining pool
that long ago drank the blood of their hearts
and laugh how silver sheen reflects their souls
to reveal secrets of the battlefield.
They drink the piquant water of their dreams
and tell each other stories of success
then sit alone in shadows of hot noon
to hide strange sorrows in the rainless dust.
When silver mist swirls among apple blooms
where children of warriors play hide and seek
these hopeful words they speak evaporate
and sparkle on lips of lovers at dawn.
© Surazeus
2019 01 03
When silver mist floats over silent fields
where warriors once battled to rule the land
these tears their children weep evaporate
and sparkle on blades of grass in blue dawn.
The river of hope gushing from their eyes
swirls around all obstinate obstacles
to spread out on the desolate plain of lies
and water waste land of their blinding rage.
Their bodies lie sprawled across the wet grass,
staring up from ravines of brutal loss
to smile at blue sky of their enemies
and remember why hawks fly among clouds.
Their children push against their rotting hearts
and tear out of their chests with hungry hands
to wear their battle-torn skins as new clothes
while they walk together in silent mist.
Roots of flowers and trees pierce their rotting hearts,
devouring mute despair of bitter loss,
and transform their bodies into bright blossoms
that whisper eerie spells in amused breeze.
Before the blue sky was their enemy
they talked together about laughing rains
so the soil of their bodies in broad fields
soaked raindrops to hide from the thirsty sun.
When will you give us rain, they sang and danced,
but the silent sky stared down into their eyes,
so they faced each other on sun-baked field
and stabbed each other so blood soaked the land.
Now their bodies sink into the dry soil
and their blood soaks the world with aching hope
so the children of old enemies mate
and bear children who forget that they fought.
The children of enemies sit by trees
and gaze at the blue sky through tangled limbs
then kiss soft as pink petals in sunlight
and give each other secret names of love.
Their children stand around the shining pool
that long ago drank the blood of their hearts
and laugh how silver sheen reflects their souls
to reveal secrets of the battlefield.
They drink the piquant water of their dreams
and tell each other stories of success
then sit alone in shadows of hot noon
to hide strange sorrows in the rainless dust.
When silver mist swirls among apple blooms
where children of warriors play hide and seek
these hopeful words they speak evaporate
and sparkle on lips of lovers at dawn.
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