not-so-Vincent

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 Upon Their Leaving
The men are quiet upon their leaving
 
Whirlwinds of laurel
Escort them into distance
Past the foot of the mountain
That sways against
A purple horizon
 
All is still
But for a battle cry--
A formless drifter
 
Countries discovered
Kingdoms conquered, claimed
Become principalities and powers
 
Pasts fall from memory
Into consciousness:
The present chaos
Of humanity's conflict

Wounded and slain
Look on from high plains

Dark of a thousand nights
Encircles their unseeing eyes
Their silent mouths
And clinched fists

"Hail the victorious dead!"
"Hail!"

from Mytstic
May 23, 2011



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