Wind froze your undercarriage,
the soft white skin of exposed belly
where armour cannot reach.
Low blow,
coming from an ally;
‘Et tu, Brute’
will be your swan song,
your dying dirge.
Tag Archives: conflict
Seeing Eye to Eye
Your lip curls in derision,
contempt for failings twists you.
Your eye gleams,
‘arc de triomphe’;
your tongue trails
your rows of hapless prisoners,
an offering to ego’s altar.
Your gleam blinds you
to your own appetites,
slaves with sweat glistening,
goose-stepping over cells
bound by shackles of steel.
Remove the plank,
and you can see to remove my speck.
Perhaps then,
sliver-free,
we can see
eye to eye.
