Terrorism Of War
It is a dark river flowing to the sea
by Alexandro Johns
that becomes part of the history again:
The walls of the fortress
are without lookouts nor loyal soldiers.
We must collect all the carnations for the Kafka grave:
He attempt to explain half in jest
the squaring of horror that he predicted in vain.
The fruits of the Horn of Plenty are dead
One again the horizon is breaking
Inside the empire the hemlock bloomed.