alone on an ice flow
in a cold cold sea
chained to your enemy
chained to your self
fire so hot it can't be seen
war so long it is us
you count the links back in time
one by one until utterly spent
drowned in connections
to what was once lost in what is now
you can hear it through the ice
pretending to be what it wants
an image of ferocity &command
not what it is behind the howl
you can't hear the throat singing
the sound of confidence
you can hear uncertainty
banging pots &pans behind a hill
the enemy is so close
you can hear it every time you breathe
you recognize its image in all your structures
you fail to identify it in your dead
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem