Wednesday, 25 June 2008


In every abattoir
a saviour is born

on the killing fields
babies appear

as I walked to the scaffold in the rain
I saw my soul enter an old woman
and she became young, full of life

so it is that in the torture cells
the hollow recesses
the slabbed morgues

where atrocities are landscaped
out of flesh blood and bone

the golden age of rebirth
seeds itself anew

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