|
SOLDIER |
|
by Charles Carreon If the beginning of the earth were to happen again today, My Goddess, I would serve you well.
Time drags at our feet, and the millenial roll of the stars Lays a stilling hand upon our thoughts; Our eyes do not always recognize each other. Later, in a moment of remembrance, We will find ourselves, too late.
I bust loose in this world, without a watch to tell me time I drift. My eyes bleed, they bleed straight from the heart.
I bury my knife to the hilt in concrete. I look at you -- your deal -- you deal me the Ace of clubs. I give you swords, You offer me cups. I wander all the streets at night to fill you up.
There is no dealer. I break at the moment of violence, I laugh at the instant of joy, I bring you the fruits of the earth in the hour of labor when the sun goes down amid the cried of babes surrendering at the breast. This is my testament -- All that I have gathered in my sinful hands. For you, my Goddess, have I sinned, and conquered heathen lands.
|