The ground is bloody, with the scars of war.
God knows what we’re fighting for.
I can’t breathe, Air’s so thin,
Nothing to stop them closing in.
Category: Rhyme
A Desperate Solace, Poetry by Ava Oparadike
A long drawn night of mystery
made worse by my drunken search for light
if only it would not all end in misery
but alas it is all for naught.
WILDsound Festival 