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*a purple, aching darling of a dawning day unfurls her chilly fingers over a greying grassland to close the creaking door of night’s cabaret. she slips her feeble sun-rays through a cracked window pane. dust motes, sauntering in their orbits, float through a parched concrete bedroom where once false love was made. here lies a brave soldier who fought for hell’s brigade and shot a widower in love’s name after which he bartered souls for simple comforts - oranges, canned fish and pain. and he never met his son or saw his daughter’s face for he had left his lover’s morning singing and life’s sunlit meadows for a wartime martyr's charming ways. so he took cover in the city’s ashen shadows from the crossfire of his mistakes and faked his life and death and everything else, while his sole mourner slipped into his sparse, concrete bedroom (where he had once kissed his darkness into secrecy) and wailed. — i raise the barricades and watch the deaths from within of day, of night, of soldiers and of sunlight and tell myself to hold my breath and wait.*
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Nov 20, 2014
Nov 20, 2014 at 8:27 PM UTC
the war needs you (never mind your lovers)
*a purple, aching darling of a dawning day unfurls her chilly fingers over a greying grassland to close the creaking door of night’s cabaret. she slips her feeble sun-rays through a cracked window pane. dust motes, sauntering in their orbits, float through a parched concrete bedroom where once false love was made. here lies a brave soldier who fought for hell’s brigade and shot a widower in love’s name after which he bartered souls for simple comforts - oranges, canned fish and pain. and he never met his son or saw his daughter’s face for he had left his lover’s morning singing and life’s sunlit meadows for a wartime martyr's charming ways. so he took cover in the city’s ashen shadows from the crossfire of his mistakes and faked his life and death and everything else, while his sole mourner slipped into his sparse, concrete bedroom (where he had once kissed his darkness into secrecy) and wailed. — i raise the barricades and watch the deaths from within of day, of night, of soldiers and of sunlight and tell myself to hold my breath and wait.*
azalea-banks
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Nov 20, 2014
Nov 20, 2014 at 8:27 PM UTC
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