The War and The Flood

More than a little bitter, poisoning, pushing out love and melancholy.

I try to focus on her, the one that brightens me with her tenderness.

She speaks with Jesus’ mouth, when the faithful curse with blasphemy.

I asked her to come north with me, to the forests and shadows, cold rivers.

She wouldn’t, and I might be running out again on a shard of Eden, home.

The war has started, and it’s soul to soul conquering, one person at time.

The rain falls as I cross the plateu, and it smears the starlight across my windshield.

Stars are there, and north is the way home, or at least to last the war and the flood.

She sang a lullaby to her baby, that last, rocking him in her arms.

“Forever, forever, forever, we shall be in light.”

“Forever, forever, forever, shall mother hold you tight.”

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