faded voices from the past
are amusing balms for wounds
what fails them now
was their triumph once
that stained my hands in disgust
desperate for a sound
makes them wonder
if they were deaf or me
and i walk over the dry sand
from this circle of storm
whirlwinds bring together time
the gone, here, that would be or not
i watch them march to the fight
and drop their weapons
to the icy ring that only screams death
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