lettres de guerre #8

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Origin (David Elliot)

grâce incroyable de voir comment le doux bruit …
(Amazing grace how sweet the sound…)

Anastasia
Sometimes
I seperate from myself
I see
See the fields filled with ash
See the hearts filled with stone
And
I see us moving
Inside the light
And shadows
Emptying chambers
In our guns
In silence
Picking out
The fragments
After bombing a city
We can’t choose
Anastasia
We can’t choose what revelation
Comes our way
But I saw
The words
I hear the hymn
In the back of my mind
And I hope that after
Ten thousand years
We will be there
We will make it right
I hope that I come together
Whole
I hope that
We won’t drag each other
Out in the streets
I hope that we won’t
See what one man
Can do to another man
I hope ….
That we come back
And then
We somehow
Remember how to live.
How to love you
Again
Sometimes
I feel as though
We only know how to…
How to destroy humanity
I know we should be keeping it safe

But it’s like this
One city
We stayed in
They’d had all their medical workers
Removed
After a black out
These were sent to the military…
Just before we got there
One of ours slept with a woman during our post …
He really just raped her
I have no better context
I’m sorry
He was apparently drunk
But beside the point
Having no Drs
No medical personnel
Within hundreds of miles

On the day we were leaving
She came out watching us
pulling out a revolver
She shot the private
In the face …
This is what war does to us
Collapsing in the streets
Our hopes
Of a better tomorrow
They’re fleeting
And vague .
And I am so tired.
I am so tired.
I wish I had better
News.
I wish I had better
Letters.
I wish there were words
For this
That left us…
Closer together.
So just say my name
Write about the taste of food
Tell me about color
Because all I see
Is gray
All I see is black
And I can’t lift it.
Anastasia,

Love,Charlie.

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