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| Image by garyandrews from Pixabay |
Where do you belong,
my warrior?
The restless winds
are here
seeking answers to
your sins
the borders impose
on your skin.
The blood you've rinsed,
the cuts you've cleaned:
how many confessions
have amputated your beliefs?
Hell is only six feet long,
three feet wide:
therein lies the peace
for which we fight,
death is like
a poet's rhyme
there is a meter
but no lyrical time!
You are a hero,
my warrior!
You are a gem
of a kind!
No sins you possess,
the borders, witnesses!
Swords kill the skin,
not the might.
The legend stays.
We toast and smile!
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