Military

all great reads ya'll

The Marine on His Way
By
Chaos_Collector

The distance is more than just a thing
I’m dreaming of how times were before you left a sting
When it was time for you to go spreading your wings
Flying towards your new beginnings

Nostalgia floods my mind
I write these words down but they don’t help me unwind
To release myself from these thought’s bind

It’s crushing how time speeds up before our eyes
These letters are all I have of you beyond your goodbye

I won’t say at times it’s not beautifully depressing
When I can’t speak to you instantly upon a requesting
I was told by friend not to enact emotion and thought repressing
This is advice surely not worth questioning

Just as you walk the paths you roam
It won’t be long before I’m free from this nostalgic dome
We’ll share time again over a few cold drinks with foam
I’ll continue counting down the days until you return home

A Chosin Moment

Art is always found within the mechanisms.

The Clockmaker strikes Iron. Cold
demands turret of voice, and eye.
"Why" is no longer a choice
to be chimed when thieves are in the tower
but an hour frozen within his clepsydra-heart.

" Please... feed me " like a fusee
broken pierces second hands.
Bones tick-tock in maddened rotations.
Patience has lost its watch
and they both are running out of time.

The stroke of midnight steel bleeds him out.
This is about how you feed a starving man
when hell turns icy, and alarms pendulum insanity.
"Oh Dear God ! This is all I have !

This is all... " drips upon craven lips
becoming sips of hope, a horolog.
His analog tolls a Chosin/chosen moment
when the Clockmaker tinkers in my Father's ear

"Your birth was simply craftsmanship.
Your life ? That is a work of art."