Bags Of Bombs On August 5th Poem by Kylee Wells

To preserve both sides at all costs
hopes steering broken hearts
forces tried by shielded weathered flowers
ripened in poison
held by hands of Gods
The last position covered before dying
destroyed by missing lovers
in the shell of chaotic offensives
surviving the scores settled by written injuries
in the air of surrendered space
extending flying white flags in spite of a never give up demeanor
impossibility sentimental for hours during fire
a total momentary glace seeming strange to me
most importantly was the so called way to die
in opposing poisons was the sword
between enemy lines your company was still intact
emissaries of great futures neglected in the past
high level risk takers of rudimentary intelligence
cornered your last morning with hypothetical orange cones
advanced warnings from hidden agendas began to surface
through rough waters
and the last dropp of poison
the first group out of sin