Poem -

Pretend soldiers

I only ever thought of you.
Through the trees the wind howls

Like locust eating wheat fields 

Where once weeds just grew.

The fields would have been used 

To make our bread.

Now the fields are devastated 

And all that there is is what the 

Locust left.

There would have been love, once.

Wine as your blood, too.

But instead we pretend soldiers,

Like we never had hearts to begin 

   with.

In the first place

Our mind's may have been free.

Before the time of the locust

Our mind's journey took us to Eden.

Before the time of sin

Took away reason.

And before the cold winds blew our

   very direction.

And those locust, again, devastating 

The fields of wheat we used to make

Our bread;

A time love, yet, wasn't spent.

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Comments

author
Marion

There is an eerie mourning quality to this
I can almost hear the locusts in the deslote fields, the locusts in the desolate heart...
x
 

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