The War Orchestra

Ashes of empires in the mirror as reflections inching 

nearer to cracks 

surrender to 
the cataracts you suffer solely in my omnipresence.

Calling all 
able-bodied residents of 
the freedom to choose your misery,

to lay down your 
long-held dreams and die heroes.

Kiss your children on the head, wives on the cheek and come 
cross the oceans…

in service to war orchestras. 

Au contraire to brotherhood, a more sinister play on siblings. 

Wind section’s 
rhythm deserts 
in droves.

Violins left to defend against 
auditory overload.

And now that we’re alone with the corpses of self-importance, their unintimidated gaze, heaven’s blood is in the breeze and dead silence reigns supreme.

Never gonna see 
home again, are we? asks my 
former enemy, survivor of 


but they’d never 
recognize him if he could.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s