Poetry: We are the Legion

we are the legion
lost across the earth’s tomorrows
at the end of days we stay waiting,
baiting the new and old untrustworthy
to serve our cause; we like it this way
to stay with hands over blackened eyelids
see no evil, watch no truth that delights in lies
we spy with our little mind’s eye instead
the book-burning soliloquies of those reared
in our stead to tread over molehill mountains
raised in weak defense against the torrents
of acid-rain reality sprayed inside our hearts
like pesticide that chokes the lungs oxygen-deprived
and black inside from second-hand smoke
that smelled so sweet but stained a putrid brown
instead of pretty blood red spilled in the hundred names
of fanaticism and the thousand faces of regret
that we let ourselves be swept away by today and tomorrow
in happiness and sorrow that we borrowed from the life-light
of the infant army, not realizing we could never give it back
in one piece but only re-gift it as a second-hand diamond
with no shine and breath of life left to sparkle in a child’s eye
and so a million first-borns turned Medusa’s children
in an nuclear instant leveled cities and stifled mothers’ pities
smothered by acid-rain reality now frozen in the atmosphere
visible from the four corners of the dearth like war-toned auroras
against the backdrop of a London bombing
numbing the dirt-stained hearts of those blown apart
and staining dirt-red the faces of the untrustworthy
who turned their backs on Elysium to chase the bait
not waiting, not staying to the end of days at the earth’s tomorrows
but trekking across, lost to the stronghold of the fiend himself
ourselves who are the legion

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