In the land of milk and honey, within the rocks, the water flows. The love of life is dangling, from a chain of forever wars…
Each a part they look away, unconcerned and unafraid.
Unaware the masses move, while their bombs drop on you.
Obscure , the hand we’ve been dealt, turn the device off, toss it on the shelf! Never mind what you heard, this world must be purged.
Purged of them over there,
Lydia, Syria how could
nobody cared?
The Nuremberg trials and **** Germany, we surely do forget.
Yet the identical road is beneath our feet, in each and every step!

In our unfinished garden,
warm stones resting atop one another,
forming a wobbly tower,
trying to connect with a true light.

Above the smoky air, faltering steps,
can I see the true shape of your struggles?
Does a malicious gnome
shape my projections?
He topples our confidence.

Do we know if we still want the same?

Your anesthetic drops,
drunk in secret behind smiles.
Your cruelty is a sarcastic, sober blow,
breaking down fleeting joy.

I long for stillness,
for a day without wrinkles.
Why do we argue for first place?
I lost to our demons, invisible enemies.
I heal my fading certainty,
Last night, I dreamt of a well,
repeating my thoughts.

Without context, we are lost,
surrounded by thick walls built by rifts.
We are still impatient for closeness.
We grapple with a weight of assumptions.

Seeing the tower of wobbly stones,
I don’t want to let go of your hands
trusting, warmly kind,
like a promise of endless green,
in our unfinished garden.