The days
I cannot count the days I walked your name beneath my feet the silent graves of words fallen like soldiers. There were ugly wounds and knives ripping faces apart, my watch calling your name. My name far away from you. I wish I could worship you in those days, gone. Now I die with you and I die without you, every spring. Where are you? I understand why war can never end. People slicing the earth and each other until we are all orphans with bleeding knives in our fists, longing endlessly for the unfulfilled dripping memories. 26.May.2007 |