ruins italy

Wailing Skies.

Last Night.

A soldier, 

Who couldn’t find his way home.

Mimicking his tormented mind.

March Left,



Head up,

Peeked right.

Mimicking the howls of 

crimson painted villages. 

Cries of wandering 

ravaged kids,

who couldn’t find their way home. 

Wailing children,

He was ordered to annihilate.

Pulsating bombs,

bound to their rib ridden flesh

March Left,




are rising ashes,

from the village he burned.

Young girl, 

can’t find her way home,

after the water was churned.


they tell you,

go find your way home.

After all that was learned.

Erase those images,

of pillaged villages,

you sprayed red 

with lead from moats. 

To the general,

outside my window,

who can’t find his way home.

We hear you soldier,

Keep marching on.