Franconia

January 1, 2014

Follow me, Shirt-brother, Rise from ripped, Yellow faces. Leave behind This field of death, The bloodied grass, The wind that effaces The wandering souls With its chemical breath. This moment will pass, As you sink into clouds Streaked with the traces Of the brave and the proud. The images of eyes Burning like coals In post-partum skies Will guide you, […]