in the swamps
through the bushes
the rain pounds
the wind roars
together they sway
and dance
crawl in the crevices
roll through the gaps
they are wet and tired
soaked and exhausted
mindless beings operating on breath
and spirit and temporary madness
the trenches are in their minds
the mud, the blood, the bone, the flesh
all this exists in their minds
in the battlefield of love and pain
emotions are the pawns
lives are the kings and queens
moved at random over the checked board of our planet
the board divided into black and white
where do the lost ones stand?
those of us who exist in the space between the black & white lines
where do we stand?
where do we stand?
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