Sacrificial Hiccups

From the unmarked graves
On the cusps of dusty hills,

To the messages on fallen walls
In the hearts of war torn towns,

There is a need to just
Pause and take breaths

Now there’s nothing left
But the icy sheened eyes

Of the puppets
And the infamous thieves,

The blood on the chins
Of the ruthless,

And the stains that shouted loudest
Through rectified dark skies.

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One Response to “Sacrificial Hiccups”

  1. Reblogged this on Let it come from the heart and commented:
    Fantastic imagery in this poem, great writing.

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