The Ticket Lost
I’m back from war without my soul,
having pawned it on the field
Among the dead and buried dreams,
whose futile prayers concealed
I wonder where my spirit hides,
as I sleep these endless hours
With day as night and night as day,
in loneliness devoured
My mind goes back to search the graves,
old enemies inside
And calls my name into the dark
—reclaiming every lie
(Dreamsleep: October, 2020)
Copyright © Kurt Philip Behm | Year Posted 2020
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