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Friday, November 13, 2015

Fantasy 8 : Balance


I am a soldier on winter's edge:
The sniper: chest pocket
Fluttering with memory,
Burning in the heat of my resolve
To be a soldier

On the blizzard ledge
Nostalgia only serves
To slacken my jaws
And embolden clouds
To rain on my camouflage
But the largesse of nature will never be enough --
I am a soldier,

There is blood on my hands:
Their blood, the world's blood --
My lifeblood;
Always a soldier.
Caked blood, dried blood
In my hair (sweat, maybe);
Silent deathly melting snow
In my eyelashes (tears, maybe);

Regiments guard my inward eye,
Promises hold my floodgates fast;
I am a soldier --
May the winter last.


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