Cry terror in the empty night!
The worst of war approaches,
not the angry mob,
nor the dogs let slip.
Thus approaches the casualties,
our known, our friends,
our mirror in the night.
Cry shame in the angry night!
Whence came the strangers?
Whence came those who cried 'Havoc!',
for thence am I bound.
On their door step shall I cry 'Havoc!'.
On them shall I loose the dogs of war!
Only then am I well found.
Cloying, cancerous, claustrophobic catharsis.
Concerned, calculated, conformist council.
Cool, composed, contemporary casualties.
22.8.08
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