In Foxholes

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There are cries and prayers in foxholes

To gods

That do not listen

Because

They are not there

 

In the center of all

Men about to

Die

There burns an ember of

Fear

 

Fear in the

Knowledge that this

Life

Is all

And once it passes

There is no more

 

In foxholes,

Where men cry out to

Gods that do not listen

Because

They are not there,

The sound of death

Is feared

 

Because

Once it is

Heard,

All men in foxholes know,

Inside,

There are no more

Sounds left

To be heard

 

All men in foxholes

Know and fear

This truth:

The end

Is really,

The end

Dead Man’s Eyes

deadeyeg

I looked into the eyes of the

Dead man

They were open and covered in

Chalk grey cataracts

Glistening

In the moonlight

 

I heard the cries of his

Child

As she wept over his cold

Corpse

 

She looked like a sheet

Dirty

Wet

Gently swaying in the wind

Clinging there to her

Father

Crying out to the heavens

“Why him!?”

“Why take him!?”

 

Only the heavens did

Not

Answer

They were

Silent

Dark

Still

 

Nothing moved but her

Tears

And the

Insects

That gathered on the

Cataracts

Coveting their

Meal

Morphine Dream

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When the time comes

To go

I hope I go in a

Morphine dream

 

To be so sick as to

Need a drip that

Will gently bring a

Morphine dream

 

But not so ill

As to bring

A chill

Of pain

So bad

I wish

I had

Lived my life in a

Morphine dream