The Chemists' War
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the carpet was mud
the blankets, trenches
as i crawled through them

crimson colored cups and towels
strewn about the living room
splattered strings of various viscera
sprawled across the battlefield

one fluorescent light
fixed upon
a grey popcorn ceiling
was later
a sun struggling
to shine through
smoke-chocked skies as
pillows packed neatly
became bodies piled

my mind now holds onto the names and
birth dates of
who i never actually knew
yet my memory can still recall
visions of their
heads bursting
beneath rows of tank treads

i cannot forget those fleeting images
of the steel airplanes that flew over me
nor the black bombs which they released
and how they plummeted downward,
like broken birds that
hadn't learned to fly
for they had no mothers
who could show them how

i cannot forget the fire
from bombs, tanks, grenades
which grew rapidly
but faded fast
as most great plumes of hatred
often do

i cannot forget the way that war ended
a ceasefire called into action
an immediate realization and
a cold collapse of dream
as the tainted ether regressed
back to a dimly-lit plafond
while the screeching
and screaming finally
flew to a

i know not the name behind
the internal method capable of
four years of flame
into four minutes of reality
into eight unorganized stanzas
but i do know
that i have witnessed it here
and i fear it immensely

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