Is perverse cartography.
Ruining a country,
In a dumb, black sun.

Where blood is the pencil and
Sorrow the measure.
Scratched blind, upon
A tattered flag,
More red with dead,
Unfurling as the bullets stun.
The diagrams describe,
Strange paths leading
To our destiny.
Together,
We can rebuild the sun,
With faithful hands.
Beyond this cursed geography. © Will Barton 2011 Click on images to enlarge