Issue Thirty-Nine - Winter 2022

The Dogs of War

By Christopher Nye

The dogs of war sniff at our heels.
And every canine fang craves meat.
The bell of forgiveness rarely peels.
Streams run red. There’s nothing to eat.

Every canine fang craves meat.
The kings fight on, offer no deals.
Streams run red. There’s nothing to eat.
Cold nose for blood. No quiet, no meals.

The kings fight on, offer no deals.
Lovers dream of cherries sweet.
Cold nose for blood. No quiet, no meals.
A stolen kiss on a clotted street.

Lovers dream of cherries sweet.
The battle rolls on snarling wheels.
A stolen kiss on a clotted street.
The dogs of war sniff at our heels.

Copyright Nye 2022