Bygone

The breasts that fed you warm milk

Grow hard and cold

Every time you fall

Every time you kill

Every time you taste blood

Yours or your enemy’s.

The lips that once sucked soft nipples

Now bite bullets

Hold cigarettes

And caress wounds.

Soft hands are now calloused

From sending death messages

Through bullet mail

To the guys

On the other side of the fence.

Every time the juicy meat gets torn

And blood gushes out like a last prayer

Fast, in a hurry

You rejoice.

But somewhere

A mother’s heart grows cold

The leftover milk

Dries up along with her blood.

Beware

If you keep playing with red

It will take away from you

The blue and the greens.

Bygone are the days

When you were a child of god.

You are feral now

But with a leash.

You are stupid

Trading your mother’s milk

For oil and religion.

But is it so surprising

When we have divided even nature.

Bygone are the days

When fearlessness meant saving lives.

Bygone are the days

When we were just men

And not wannabe gods.