By the Forgotten Dead


Themselves are nothing much... like flies without their wings
their humbleness... like you, but not exactly
Or so you'd like to believe, despairingly, hopelessly
Helplessly
You'd like to believe you're different from them
Who are nothing much, but torment others
And enjoy doing it.
"No animal comparison please" -- says every animal
Rational being,

You don't wash your hands. You build up awful commemorations,
Memorials, graves,
Huge graveyards with their white erected crosses
After battles or just massacres

And so you must continue, desperately thinking
you are innocent and others always to blame
Because otherwise your wounds would be lethal
A poison extinguishing your flames
Expectations, Hopes, Self-images
Trascendence, Spirituality, Culture

And all your masks would collapse