The dream is over and what a dream it was! Nevertheless we have had our sheltering walkmen ripped from our heads. and been forced to confront the uncertainties of the coming day. Does the sun shine less brightly this morning? Maybe not, but it seems that way. Still, there is ice in the wind, The leaves are now falling, and winter is surely on its way. I woke and found myself in 1914 Breathing the air of injured innocence and national glory. The streets were filled with red, white and blue And peoples souls with patriotic songs. See how proudly the young men go? Seeking glory in the oncoming winter. There are coloured ribbons in young girls hair And a willing kiss for departing lovers. And as for them? They march the march of heroes, Willingly adorned with the crown of martyrs While they dream they will soon be coming home: Coming home before home itself becomes the dream. But what a dream it was! A dream that ends in the same old story: Dulce et decorum est pro Patria mori.
Reason for writing:
The reaction to the recent atrocities in America (where i live)
Birth sign: Leo
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