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Enough! Cease thy celebration of defeat!


Enough! Cease thy celebration of defeat! Bring around the desiccated love-blooms, sentiments of a shadowy reverence, carting in more darkness than illumination…

Enough! Cease thy celebration of defeat! Usher in the loud wounds and thoughts, exhale narrow prayers within the sky, like war-games strafing the surface of the sun…

Enough! Cease thy celebration of defeat! Draw out the defamed blood from the veins of steel and warfare, allow it to inhale no more, to finish its ache and ashen rhyme…

Enough! Cease thy celebration of defeat! Summon the dogs of war from their musty grotto, prop their rigid hands up to surrender, in recognition of kinship to one another…

Enough! Cease thy celebration of defeat! Down, long before the count, one, two- Time’s up! Stumble now for meaning, for reason, for truth to wrap me safely away before collapse…


© 2011 by mark prime

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