The Laurel - Poem by Walid Boureghda
I am carrying a pannier replete with discordant locutions.
I am reclining myself to the delusion of the thoroughfare.
I am bartering the ink of truce with the anchor of warfare.
I am limning out an implicit screen for moderate solutions.
I am ad-libbing hordes and battlefields.
I am ad-libbing laurels and warlords.
A further obscurity came in an aggregate blackout,
And when the glare found, beyond shadow of doubt,
A sneaking path like wading through a river at a ford;
The canopy of innocence yawns at our atrocious deeds.
Then absurdly the war was alluringly adjourned
For thousands and thousands of years to come.
Notwithstanding was the enmity longly yearned,
Many laurels have raised thousands of thumbs.
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