Saturday, January 21, 2017

Robert Verdon, #426, two years to war, a prologue


this subterfuge will end as summer drags
and autumn curls its leaves around your legs
a distant branch will creak upon a hill
a wind shall part the forest like a shriek
the years of progress shrivel to a spark
the rapier of hatred seeks its path
as bloodless calculation stops the breath
and all shall turn upon a single will
so sundry millions everyday will thank
the one who carried through this monstrous task …

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