Milky Fog
The milky fog of an afternoon glass
Seeps through deep trenches
Amongst the rubble lies a reflection
Mystified and vaporised with poppies all around
Golden ichor is not for the faint of heart
A bomb fired years ago
Finds itself down your throat ten years after
The everlasting headache always soothes
But spirals infinitely till it reminds
Of the glasses smashed
And screams that crashed
Of the men who thrashed
With there guts all bashed
Shots send shivers down your spine
And in so little time a firework becomes a mine
The engine of a car is the tread of a tank
One more blowout and you’ll forget your rank
What friends are friends who forget names at a sip
They are the ones who remember the most
But must force a drill to there brain
To forget all that happened and make nothing new
It’s the golden syrup of gods that gives impermanent healing powers
If only it was had during the metal rain
If only you didn’t look in the eyes of the greatest pain
For now the soul of death lives within you
It will create the headache which you drown
It will tell you that you wear a crown
It will tell you to suck the life out of a glass
For it will thrive at all the power it has
Please remember the heroes you fought for
There blood drained with no gold at all
The enemy is not there to conquer you
But to show to you that you still stand tall
Copyright © Ethan Klastaitas | Year Posted 2023
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