Etched

I'm a billion faces

carved from good intentions

and bad actions;

a tripwire's tension

 

The aching thought in a man's mind

powder-stuffed howitzer shells; gleaming unkind

razorwire silhouettes

and sharpened bayonets

 

War is a war of it's own

Life's a war

array yourselves as generals

 

Rommels among Pyrrhuses

Pommels to blades; peerless

 

Words, swords, lords

like all the rust a broken blade can muster

each of the three oxidize;

lose luster

 

crumble over earth

like red sugar into coffee

each tiny brilliant sparkle a hearth

dissolving into black

 

Each one can find a staggering glory

Shine for a time.

Make a mark, mesmerize; Memento Mori.

 

 

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