He watched white butterflies rise high above the red flames in silence
They got lost in their dance, between the divine albino gargoyles
Yet the cicada went silent, that was their elegy
The one without names
And slowly the stars burnt out as, soul by soul,
Men crumbled beneath the weight
Of their own decadence

When the heavy rain is pouring
It's impossible to tell the difference
Between tears and fervently desired water
So don't speak a word,
Else your voice betrays your passion

Drop by drop the blood will clear
And the greedy earth will breathe once more
Only to consume all the elixir it is given in offering
Lie on the soil, pretend you are deceased
And maybe the earth will consume
Your sins along with the downpour too

I love you…
He sang to saccharine tunes of ignorance
Yes, me neither.
She would bite back words of spite
With only a little dose of irony
Yet he never believed a word she said
And neither did she

But they were together when their eyelids were forced apart
And the belly of their homeland spilled open, intestines pouring out
As it lay dying of gore, thirst and hate
War turned love into a hearse
Music into waste land of savages

What a choice to make…hope…or despair
To keep sanity while stepping over corpses
And to preserve life within a burning pandemonium
Or to fall to one's knees
With at least three slashes on each wrist
To contribute blood to drown, to choke the world
In the easiest manner, with hardly any effort

Don't say you never wondered why
Inspiration always comes best during deepest nights
Of solitude

War is like forcing
A human with a heart to eat
His own flesh
And maybe the worst truth
In the spinning dawn after high spirits
Is that the world will never take notice
No matter how many precious lives are taken

When she finally understood Justice is a fleeting mistress
He lifted the dusty drapes off her eyes
And she consented to accept what he had to offer
Yet this tainted love moved the world no more
Than the War to which all remained innocently blind

So she often wondered whether her country was as invisible
As the little world she lived in
Inside her head
Or perhaps human slaughter was indiscernible

AN: Hmmm…don't ask, I've no idea where this came from…so many different ideas, and I started it months ago! It is not in chronological order, not sure if that's understandable…and I've noticed that in all my poems I toy with the tenses and past/present/future…come to think of it, I'm not sure where I am in real life either, but that's a different matter. The title hasn't got an obvious connection with the poem itself, but to me it means something. It is a bit long though, sorry...

My second shot at free-verse!

One thing I did clearly want to express here is how many wars go on that the rest of the world never hears about…how many people know what happened in Rwanda? India when it gained its independence? Yugoslavia when it fell apart? Somalia? The world is happy in its ignorance, which I suppose is normal but…I still think even though they're not going to actually do anything, people should be a little bit more conscious about things going on outside their countries…