There was love in No Man's Land. You don't ask,
what is war? What is killing you for?
The answers were confusing for politicians.
There were no stars but lacking GPS was not
a disability. Each one found his way to peace,
in an enemy's laughter.
It was not a funny word, slaughter.
A bullet pierced though a Christmas card,
after the carols were sung
and soldiers were pulled away from peace,
were poured together like a mixture
on a holy cup.
Could this be the end of things? To the enemy, dead,
one said, 'I had wished him a merry christmas.'
No comments:
Post a Comment