At the Front

At the Front

Winking in and out of the two worlds
Living and lost
Blankness blocks my eyes

Is that trembling shadow my mother
Shuffling to see who comes?
She squints through black glass
Watches her son
Stroll above the roof of hell

Somehow I know this place
The man who tried to kill us
Laces bony fingers round my neck
Can’t find his grip

Something flickers beyond my sight
Perhaps these stripes on the wall are not lines
But the curl of a dragon come to steal our dreams
Yet I fear this old dragon may soon crash
Weighed by the memories of our past lives

Our dreams must dissolve at hell’s border
So will we
For the two worlds, living and lost
Are but one