War Scene - beyond the wealth of the winners

War Scene - beyond the wealth of the winners

A hand from a dead body uphold
by a megalithic pile of weapons,
tries with a last effort to survive –
for the aggrieved mothers!
Laid on the murky soil, the soldiers –
both dead or alive – hang in a deceased nature
filled with blind, deaf and mute shapes;
but the butt buried beneath them
unburdens the remaining gunpowder…
Chopped down were also those guys –
with only one word, one voice!!!
Trenches remained quiet and waiting
for soldiers to fall – like some black widows –
to fall crying.
The white-grey flags
stab themselves like in a fight between enemies
(for life and death).
Some warmer screams raise worst,
blood rivers hardly trickles from the
wide spread throats;
so, finally all of them see
the same dusk vanishing
at the edge of their sight.
In blood puddles are falling asleep,
forever, the beloved ones – with a closer look
to the worn out grenades,
within some evil prodigious acid vapours.
On the sky, there’s a smoke –
from the poisoned terrifying mushrooms!
Because of the hot air around,
changes hardly can be distinguished.
Far to the horizon a few shadows
trying to cheat the arrogant death;
scythe follows their knees leaving no tracks but…
SILENCE! … SILENCE! … NOTHING!!!
The ground beneath, breaths refined
a huge mosaic:
Creatures that won’t come back ever…