Dust and Ash
“It’s all dust and ash,” said the soldier to his beloved as the whistle sounded summoning him to the train. They stared at one another with gaping eyes utterly aware of this moment the gravity the insanity the desperate hollowing out of their souls leaving them breathless painfully aware as poets are aware of the myriad feelings of the looming tragedy of lost you and a portal opening to death to God. Nothing ever again not even a flower smells the same after war. Dust and ash hoarded in huge piles by wealthy and powerful men who would rather send you and me to our deaths than to surrender to God. Is there anything in your life more inevitable than God?
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- Tomorrow Could Be Wonderful · September 30‹ Lazy Fall DaysForever Spring ›