Wine glasses
on the officers desk
the imprinted a plan
twisted with
shapes of circles and angles
smoke up to the ceiling
the chairs keeping the ranks clothes hang
on skin of the floor
open the windows of commands room
dead bodies of soldiers,
have fallen in a corner
? why don’t you respect the real victors
Cool down,
Only the wings of some flies
Wipe away the dust
Of your bodies.
((Poet: Seyed Morteza Hamidzadeh))
Seyed Morteza Hamidzadeh
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/blood-crime-pieces/
