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Created by
Lydia
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Cards (31)
our brains
ache
in the
merciless iced east winds
that
knife
us
the
night
is
silent
...
but
nothing
happens
mad gusts
tugging
on the
wire
like
twitching
agonies of men among its
brambles
flickering
gunnery
rumbles
what are we
doing
here
poignant
misery
of
dawn
clouds
say
stormy
her
melancholy
army
shivering
ranks
of
grey
sudden
successive
flights of
bullets
streak the
silence
black
with
snow
flowing flakes that
flock
the winds
nonchalance
pale flakes with
fingering
stealth
forgotten
dreams
snow
dazed
is it that we are
dying
slowly
or
ghosts
drag home
glozed with crusted
dark red jewels
shutters
and
doors
all closed
on us the
doors are closed
we turn
back
to out
dying
kind
fires
burn
field
or
fruit
gods
invincible
spring
for love of
god
seems
dying
shrivlling many hands
puckering
foreheads
crisp
half
known
faces
all their eyes are
ice