Peitho Enthermos Poems

A weary soldier heard a call,
And it wasn't the brays of guns in the evenfall.
But the salubrious chantey from the distant sea,
Sanguine about a surmised victory.
...

The contours drawn into a story,
Delineated by the grimaces of pains from a fist,
Engraved by the years of adversity,
Was what I understand the least.
...

Below the regnant confusion,
Slow but not ceasing;
Flagrantly swirling through thoughts,
Speaking silence but threatening.
...

The depression of a friend is always strong.
He does not know what is right to do,
He does not know what is wrong.
...

If I am a pretend-happy me
Nothing will be changed, except I must my face.
But I wake up with miracles to see,
So I continue do an embrace.
...

If you say, 'My hair is curly, ' how will that help me find you?
If you say, 'My eye color is dark', whose eyes must I look into?

But darling, even if you can't tell
...

Why do you keep on digging?
What hadn't rotten in my bones?
How did I die, had I been living?
Was I a myth, when there were thrones?
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I suddenly hit the sun with my speed!
The star then scratches me with blazing yellow.
So, I roll over the evening grass
and it has given me lanes of shadow.
...

I was a kid; you had puppies.
We grew together among fears and bliss.

I fought many battles, and you fought all along.
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Time is a clear glass
and fear- - the flightless bird.
Time is an illusion you never see
and fear, the voice you never heard.
...