let us breathe
do you see what binds him by his wrists
do you see what binds us all
be it cheaply bought
or custom made
a price is paid in full
he can not help the price he pays
it's not your fault or his
you have your own to hold
you have your own, not his.
do you know we are in the fray dear mother
how do i move you safely home
if my tone does all but frighten you
and fill you full of doubt.
how do i serve and to protect you
as my blood burns through me now
tell me i can listen while
we have this precious time
this price to pay
this price that binds us all
the numbers now have taken him.
his voice is gone for now
does she listen? does she speak?
does she hear him if at all.
does it matter who survives the fray of war
if the families are first to fall
let us breathe
let us run
let us gather god's good gifts
there was love here once before
there was love here from the start
there will be love once again
when the families find their hearts
do you know we are in the fray dear mother
said a casualty of war.
very beautiful poem thank you for sharing this :)
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I find this part haunting:
the numbers now have taken him.
his voice is gone for now
It builds up to this moment, and then bam, a short stanza delivers it. In times of catastrophe we think of people as numbers. It's art like this that helps us to remember.
Greetings, I really liked your poem. It is interesting the way you hook into the word before peace and war, where the images of tension provoke extreme memories of events like this. Thank you so much for sharing it