At War

If I walk slowly around the flames

I won’t get burned. But every time

I try to bypass them, a land mine

blasts me into pieces so little,

I’m not sure if it was me being blown up.

 

If I stay where I am,

The wind will pull the fire closer.

I’ll be a pitched black corpse, but tell me,

Am I not one already?

Walking dumb and shadowy,

Fading away as I do my daily routine,

Going to bed invisible and grim.

 

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