i'm a light machine gun.....
locked up and loaded in rounds......
firing all kinetic energy and reason..........
across the trenches and the fields i've sent..........
pistols, shotguns, autos to their knees.........
but as i unlock and reload and cool down..........
and the panicked silence settles in.........
i have to ask in kind......

s n i p e r..

do i have your eye?

The solider’s ‘sorry’s
A writers cries
Drown the world in tears
Fear fills our hearts
The apology buried in fires

War.
Such a small word for something so big
What does it mean?
Gunshots ringing through the air as his strong arms wrap around me, covering my ears
I can still hear the screams
Families are ripped apart
The ones that survive pick up the broken pieces, if there are any left
Most of them are broken too, shattered souls still bleeding
Many have no tears left to cry, hearts freezing over, sharp icicles drawing blood, both theirs and others
Everything is grey. Even his eyes look...dead
A few nights ago we were clinging to each other, was it for warmth or comfort? It didn't matter
Phantom feelings of a ruined past, like a ghostly touch, start to stir
A melody I can't quite grasp, sung by a memory, forever lost to the chaos
I can almost picture an angel-white dove taking flight
It keeps me going through the pain
But when I open my eyes, it's fallen, red staining its feathers
His calloused hands were cold and still, wrapped around me in a final embrace
His last promise to protect me
The gods came that day, too
They were too late
Now I think to myself, "Is it really over?"
And every time, my reflection whispers back, "No, it's not."

You can hear the violence in the silence
Even when the rain washes your tears –
  some pain still reigns; man sailing thru

These clouds, and their tears galore; wouldn’t
You know every tomorrow comes too late –
  exorcisms to clear those who’ve ghosted you

The past hangs on an arm’s annexation
Holding the reigns of your mind’s territory –
  we wake as soldiers, ready to fight today

Winning small battles means nothing to war  
A world of peace could exist, en route to God –
   we could go as far, by how long we pray

I could have seen you yesterday,
Recalling a lover’s patch of kisses –
signing that love pact. War over love,
though when is love enough
for all wars to be done?

A world of peace could exist,
but it would mean we all don’t exist.

Men plunge and ****** their spears into
Pointless flesh
You've let it in through your ribben cage, and so drunkenly judged this poor exchange
Of a branch's strength to a wrench's

More wood
More wood for the fiery eyes of the younger
Isn't it good
There's new flesh for the trenches
Whom with an unquenched thirst
And a gray wolf's hunger
Ignore the flesh, rot and stenches.

the day the bombs fell
my house was disintegrated
every plank of pseudo wood
every glimmer of glass
every picture frame that held us in place
everything; except for the fake flowers on the dining table

amidst the shadowed quiet world they stood
even though they don't need sunlight
they beckon the sun to come closer
but no matter how close it comes
the flowers will feel no warmth

they wont ever feel the wonder of photosynthesis coursing through their stems
and into their still golden petals
its not as if they felt anything ever
im not particularly sure about real flowers' feelings either

dont ask me how they made it through the impact because i dont have an answer
maybe the pakistani laborers decided to put in a little more effort for their pennies one day
because the single impurity was a petal with ghostly spots on it
something you would see on an old love letter your grandma wrote

and that petal was the first to fall
no one was there to see it fall
and the world was so topsy turvy that it could've fallen upwards towards the ashy clouds
or it could have defined its own set of physics
a philosophical query in its own right
it could have also just floated there
in the absence of anything
alone

sometimes it's a wonderful thought, being alone
i envy that petal
it could get away from the rest quickly, painfully, easily
maybe it was quick, painless, and easy because there was nothing left in the world to make it hard
i mean its not like there are any biomolecular bonds to keep the petal from falling
there aren't any living organisms feeding on its non existent nectar
and it didn't need any of those things in the first place
they're fake
simple and fake

i don't know why we kept them around
i guess it made everything feel better amidst the chaos of our home
mama yelling at my sister when she doesn't do her homework
daddy yelling at mama when she yells at my sister
and me sitting in my room
also alone but also very much surrounded by the things that i desperately want to get away from

that's why i envy the plastic flower
even in a world where the sun doesn't shine
where the birds don't sing
where the rain doesn't fall
it doesn't need any of the things i need
unfortunately i need oxygen and sunlight and love

it got love just for looking pretty
impossible for someone like me
maybe i am pretty to someone else
but it certainly never got me anywhere
never paid for my dinners
never got me a kiss in the rain
never got me flowers from passersby

but these flowers could just sit there on the table
not even living
and soak up all the love that is now lost to the ashes

its petals fell slowly over centuries
the table, half disintegrated, rotted from beneath the nonsensical flower ***
the remnants of the walls collapsed in on themselves
narrowly missing the flowers
resistant bugs ran to the flower for mercy
but died in its shadow realizing that their cries for sweet nectar were futile and their journey to Mecca was a hoax

over time my home became much like modern day Chernobyl
full of life and light and fresh air
pockets of radioactivity kept the living beings in check
and the fake petals of the fake flowers scattered across this newfound land
the last remnants of human life on Earth
it's almost silly to think about

we got up that day and didn't expect anything new to happen
the same old grind, same old food, same old people, same old rhymes
but the day ended with a skin breaking flash
and the sound of everything dying reached us before our deaths

it was rather slow actually.