The battlefield

November 25th, 2013

The desert weapon cracked with the silence pouring out. You should cry less, sister. You should be more patient, brother. The trees colour the bodies sucked empty of passion. The field, voided of battle, mourns. The wind blowing through scattered pipes. The sand dust covers the blood. Never the satisfaction of the last fight, save passing illusion.
Lay with slow infrequent breaths – a sky left to marvel. No voice, no intonation, what travels, travels without a trace. The land ruined plain, waters polluted. Shut down the machine, fuck trying. Truth enter the scene. Can’t fight it, can’t break that. The beauty stands small, even less in duration.
Close your eyes, friend. Shit’s over.


[audio:|titles=Desert Winds]

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