Shelter

In a year of deeds hungrily punished

Time flew into my face

And sliced through my skin

And grabbed my face until it was aligned to death’s

And I lived on into endless duress,

And now there is nothing but the most veiling shelter

Endless smashed drops upon a human shield

In a perfect meadow

A nimbus of forests and lakes,

Of disinterested perfection

And somewhere, so far away that that place cannot be reached

Is a bloody corpse of a past tortured to death

For such a sweet present.

Now, there is more than just one soul that rests in peace.

And thus the flux of time with all its malignant tragedies have taught me

What endless volumes could not:

Peace is not only bought with death

It can also be bought with courage.

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