Paradox of loving

Love has grown ever fonder, broader, wider

Shouting in agony from the rooftops,

The terror of life.

Solitary confinement on a pavement full of people,

Walking by in a hurry, desperate to finish without thinking what’s at the finish line.

Body slightly broken, Pain stops mobility,

Horizons seems further than it’s ever been before,

But the birds are singing,

The rain is falling and I can’t help but dance in joy.

For love has grown ever fonder, broader, wider

Though it makes the solitary confinement longer, sadder, lonely

And the agony pronounced

The terror and wonder of life.

The abyss called despair

The hapless delinquent pulled the trigger, beginning a descent to the abyss called despair. If only grief were not so consuming, if death not the end, if forgiveness could be found; then hope might be seen as a shimmer on the horizon, glimpsed in the distance, kindled in our hearts.

Marching to Glory

Boots marching, marching, marching
Through two entire nights,
Marching to war,
marching to glory,
incorrectly perceived,
misunderstood.

Hopeful they arrive at the walls,
shovels digging, digging, digging,
through two entire weeks,
and the cannons are set,
aimed,
fired.

No room for flabby men here,
not food enough,
room only for disease,
entrenched in the skins of men.

In a few days it is over,
The indignant stench,
rising towards the stars,
but never getting there.

They marched to glory,
incorrectly perceived,
misunderstood.