[veneficuslacuna]

Thru haze, they march with eyes near tears from smoke,
An accidental drop of guilty woe
Thru daze, they hardly see the souls they broke.

To smell the guns and shells the sun awoke.
To shine its light thru smoke and gray to go
Thru haze. They march with eyes near tears from smoke.

Too blind by lies and fabricated cloaks,
With ears congested by the tales of foes,
Thru daze, they hardly see the souls they broke.

Pain dulled by views of murdered folk,
Rehearse the scenes of death by rows,
Yet now, they march with eyes near tears from smoke?

And now, again, they start a war, a joke.
And sit and watch their glass of wine go low.
Thru daze, they hardly see the souls they broke.

The shirts of faceless foes; in blood and mud they soak
Memories in wind, like dust they blow.
Thru haze they march on, eyes near tears from smoke,
Thru daze, they hardly see the souls they broke.

[Phonoho]

The steady marching pace is well pronounced here and calls to mind other, much darker regimes. The lock-step progression of iambs fall like drum beats from another era, driving home a sense of dread over the injustice of an ill conceived war. The repetition is appreciated but, perhaps, slightly exaggerated as a refrain.

[RENA HANDS]

I will not comment nor question the form of this poem. I will however state the imagery and emotions here depicted are Incredible! The eeriness and sadness combination just exquisite (though I’m certain not appropriate here) I have no other words. I rate 4/5!