Zeitnot

Screams, scars and blood

100, 97, 94, 91…

Red, greys, lies and crime,

They called it politics.

A word that searched for it’s long lost worth.

Between the men and lies

I believe the lies I said.

Blood, lies, leaders and liars.

I held the hands of a liar,

I buried my good in mud and blood—

Brown or red?

Ohhh darling! Did my reach for the land above me,

The land of bloody red men.

88, 85, 82, 79….

The gooey stench of blood, frog slowly boiled away—

and the feel of my own mushy, slurpy- flesh coated in the purest crimson,

Clung to me as the time ceased with the (never)flying white flag.

Splash and ash; water and land,

Lives drowned before the dead,

As beauty of imperfections burns to the ground.

Golden era of humanity;

Between the men and lies

I believe the lies I said.

Tears didn’t reach the land

Nor did the souls find the stairs.

76, 73, 70, 67…

I was it, I was the lie, the cry that was heard and the soul buried…