We all died hardly
swallowing our last voice
throwing kicks to the wind
we saw the light fade.
The howl overwhelmed the sun,
the air became tight
crystals of words
the last blasphemy uttered.
Before it was over
we reminded those still alive
that the price was our life
for the evil done in an hour.
Then we slipped into the cold
of a death without abandon
reciting the ancient creed
of those who die without forgiveness.
Those who derided our defeat
and the extreme shame and manner of it
choked by an identical grip
may learn to know the knot.
He who spread the dirt on our bones
and got carelessly back to his path
may also reach exhausted the grave
with the early morning fog.
The woman who hid behind a smile
the discomfort of remembering us
may find each night on her face
an insult of time and a graze.
We hold for everyone a grudge
that smells of dried blood
what we then called pain
is just a matter left hanging.