Jan G. Otterstrom F.

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He straddled the edge of chaos
one false step and in would fall
forces beyond control, violent
motions, stench of sin and death
surging sweeps of random bombs
body parts, blood strew the lanes
broken blocks, walls crumbled
all birds have flown, dogs howl
women embrace still living morn
tree leaves scorched, end of green.

Jan G. Otterstrom F. July 30, 2014