At dawn, again
Bayonets smothered by dew
Sighs coagulated by vagrant veins
hope for the sunshine, unseen
Ramparts of anthems, of hymns
a mumbling anthem drooling into the mud from a missing tongue
at dawn
dead
tired of being
slaughtered by inevitable
Continue reading
Also by Jaia Papitz
Other voices · In conversation
- The Station Keeper, 209422 MIN
- The North River5 MIN
- Openly Visible1 MIN