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The Paradox of Battle

Spears aviate above our gaze. Souls begin to depart Encompassing our moment, But it is slipping, as is my reality, As is your consciousness I had known the depths of ocean. Understood every numinous word. Prepared my death and planned my life. Each question accompanied by a definite answer. But in those speckles of green, Cryptic water flowed into my ocean, Spilling over the barriers, Rushing into the fields of grain, Carrying unknown parasites wanting to feed. Sliced. I knew this sound, this feeling, The blood that would spill, But your skin agitates my pulse. A tenderness that I had destroyed, That I can never experience. I will never known those hands, Or call them my own. I have created my own demise. Metal continuously clashed, Yet I lay watching your somber departure Envisioning a hopeless unison that could never arise, An act the devil had surely commissioned. Your raven hair fluttered, And I closed those eyes. Eyes that have become ingrained A permanent scar, stemmed from intolerance. A never-ending history repeats.
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Written by
hannah-franke
American
Published
Mar 26, 2012
Lines·Words
38·172
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