Writ in blood (2024)

Weary, hysterical marches

all their eyes clouded over,

they trudged in long,

wavering ranks;

From one corner of that

broken land

to the remotest, forsaken reaches

This was a hate-filled place

for them, they knew it,

But their lords had drilled it

into them, drilled to understand

that every sovereign inch

must be held on to,

must be savaged with maniac force,

no matter how many (here and there) bit

the dust;

What were they, then ?

Only nothing, only there to die

in their plenitude

and to kill likewise,

endlessly.

Sad, that it was all for a map, and

a soiled piece of paper

writ then, and again and again,

in the warm and flowing stream

of human blood .

Omer Tarin