by David N. Yancey

was the cold war this cold?
so devoid of passions
and the tender caress
of enemy skin against skin
the sexual urge has gone out
and in rushes a way of fighting
that sets teeth on edge
in the impractical urges
of greed and power.

the nature of men in war
is to turn to love
but in this one I find
there is no where to turn
but empty hearts on empty streets
beating bloodless veins
in a search for anciently discarded parts
deep under the ground
and by breaching earth's skin
open Hades black prison
and he comes for you now
as we slowly do away with Persephone

Copyright © 2008 - David N. Yancey
Published: 10/9/08   ·  Author's Page   ·  Next Poem