On the flat ground between Ukraine and Russia
fires and weapons wheeze in despair
Bullets catch people because there's nowhere
for them to land but there
Bullets leave their beholden guns forever and fly toward people
finding them behind buildings or even in creep holes
embedding themselves into the flesh and death tolls
This war fashion of evil fabric creases and folds
Bullets never land in the soil
or run into overgrown trees
they find vital organs hidden in bodies
They enter life and exit death
artillery and drones pass over head soldiers diving
sacred angels singing and torching toward the horizon
with the intentions of God and the devil a holy calamity
interrupting missiles entrusted gravity
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