the rubble grows
as so many argue about
when molehills become mountains
*
and it is an apt analogy pondered upon
as they sit in air conditioned rooms drinking cold bottled water
so many buried under this tautology
negation in new flavors
*
house turned tomb
sleeping children
who never will awake
from last dream
*
yet still the bombs fall
this center of gravity
that absolute war demands
an abstraction
that demands daily sacrifice
*
to those who find reciprocation
so easy to justify
*
nietzsche tells us
the abyss can be a mirror
for those who wear
a narcissus mask
*
out damned spot
*
for there are thorns thirsting
to deeply drink from collective basin
that each night becomes
darker amaranth
*
-
Author:
Jon Nakapalau (
Offline) - Published: May 29th, 2026 17:36
- Comment from author about the poem: The shadow of war...cast long over this summer.
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 10
Offline)
Comments2
Dark is the tone and black is the mood. Well written
Wonderful words Jon showing those who start the war are never hurt like those who are sent to fight.
Andy
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