Home?

Decrepit theologic ruins
Seven decade folly to war
Leaves drop through spring showers
A city, country, a people
Unplugged from reality
Kept alive by merest of fate
A running mud filled ditch
A peaceful world blocked of love
Only found inside four walls

A darker film forms over this wasted nations nightside,
I see the brown pigmented parasites,
Gypsy fallacies; bringing pride to its knees,
Knowing, seeing a force, an Angel of light fading.

Vegard Magnus Vindheim ©2012

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