• Vol. 09
  • Chapter 12
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From Violet Blossoms

Of the earth from violet blossoms and bud
I sprang forth

at sixteen I hear the call of the army
for king and for country

across worlds I am the bayonet of battle
striking for good

these small white fingers hold close
the rifle like a baby

and soon I will deliver the advent of death
from beneath my hot metal shroud.

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