|Image source: NASA.com|
You are Here
Almost eight-thousand miles across,
we spin and barrel round the sun
with words unsaid and dreams undone.
In flight, we fight, Crescent and Cross,
with voiceless song, we don’t belong
on pilfered scales; profit and loss
with bloodied banners, won by none
on borders, thousand miles across.
Written for dVerse Poets - Octain Refrain–dVerse Meeting the Bar. I was intrigued by this new form and thought I’d give it a shot, as it seemed to be an ideal vessel for exploring our needlessly violent existence. We’re all stuck on the same spinning rock, yet we continue to massacre people for reasons that just don’t make any sense.
Sorry for being a buzzkill. That’s just where I’m at these days.
Be sure to read the other dVerse Poets who also tried this form.