boneless fingers
foraging beneath the overcoats
the wrath of the young
has no warrant here
amidst the fallen
frames
of half bled men
the sturdy robust chancer
found wandering
without a name
for when the rain came
so did the silent beat of the drum
the war song
of mans last hope
drummed into earth
as ash
no name shall follow us here
for the earth cannot answer
with love
the earth can only answer with cries
of the night
child bearing screams
that carry life
through her veins
born out
into spite
yesterday
yesterday
followed by night
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