Bricks of glass,
make shift house of cards;
Lost in the corridors of;
maze of misery
Lousy days of dread;
stone cold-
Filling the cellars of my dreams.
What else shall slip through?
In humour I ask,
the drops of blood on my palms.
The last of us fumbling;
breaking at the breeches.
.

Axes smeared with blood;
terminates on this soil,
the arteries of soul merry.
.

The platoon blessed,
brought the dying comrade;
A bullet pierced dying heart
pot of nectar
from heavens.
.

Comrade shall live;
Rejoicing the army must make believe;
A tin can of night's wonders;
To the hungry soul un-fed
Even the moon seems a loaf of bread.
.

Of glee we dreamt;
poured on the sands of destiny;
We shall live
Ploughing among the stones;
Building castles on sand;
We came a long way-
or so I thought!
Comrades-
Only the cowards dine in hell;
For we desire to live.
.

Play it over again,
As many times as fate shall wish,
The cassette of misery on a loop.
I promise to thyself,
To live to tell the tale.