Wednesday, July 3, 2013

So Sayeth the Voice from the Trenches

Some have heard memories 
from veterans of the past;
they speak of vivid scenes 
from the trenches of battle.
I have my own commentary to cast. 

My battle was not fought
in the city of Berlin. 
My conquest remained here,
a sole stationary point
where happiness resigns to unknown sin.

Trenches - mental trenches - 
made from the stuff of the mind.
The foes charged from ahead 
and sought to infect me.
I felt, as I endured, madly confined. 

The husband of Helen 
knew a similar feeling
when Paris stole his love.
Gilgamesh, the once-tyrant,
felt sad for his friend's death and sought healing. 

It seems impossible,
on the road of this journey,
to avoid moments of glum.
As a result, I hear,
sometimes, the world laugh and belittle me. 

The only thing I seek, 
in times of melancholy, 
is to quell the cosmic sadism.
I wish to bring peace back;
I yearn to escape this vast, blue folly.

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