Dreams: The Martyrdom of Saint Andrew
All the dear loved ones murdered today.
No respite from the killing,
save for the existence of nothing;
kills time
on rainy days.
A time for loving long gone sour,
slipped down the gap between the wars.
Between the sexes.
I remember loving in the world of desire.
Before the age of romance.
A love now crushed in the vice-like grip of truth.
Today dead eyes see more clearly.
Beyond the soapy inexperience of youth.
All the dreams torn from the fragile hearts of god's children.
Cruel death resembling peace during war.
We hammered on door after door.
Neighbour murdered neighbour.
Crushed the skulls of infants in your name.
And fell in awe
at the floundering truth,
the big lie,
like a fish out of water.
The rot's set in good now.
Oncology rules okay.
As I turn
to face
the gates of hell.