A Battle Poem by Alexander Julian

A Battle



Fins were tucked into a small bed.
Rain got seasoned, light came out from these hands.
A huge uproar of thunder waved itself across those foaming memories.
Soon, a tree flew upon the breaking point of dust.
No giant could spin webs yet.
Eventually a tide cracked from its extreme positions over sand.
Birds stirred in a pot while the cold frame burned of mist.
Dreams of heaven revealed the opening changes of fortitude.
One pebble scratched the grave along its weight.
Much soared half in half for an exchanged picture of the flying pause.
Little vultures broke the surface of wisdom into madness of variable height.
Then, a working station of gusts developed energy by plain mass.

Wednesday, June 19, 2019
Topic(s) of this poem: army,battle,dreaming,life,lifestyle,light,lights,poems,poetry,soldiers
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