A Principle Of Bliss Poem by Leon Moon

we are beyond the pain of ‘I'.
Our lament is prioritised to a longing
To detonate sunrise.

Eternal armies and heaven's mercenaries
Coalesce to a ball-point pen.
The remedy for shell-shock.

Armistice.

Awaiting action.
Orders or fraction.
The finality of man.

"You must die a thousand times in one life
To take these words as truth"
No other voice will suffice.

You cannot reply.

We are in a Nowhere of Self.
The ocean of preludes.
Wind that exists once it forgets itself.

There is no fox-hole.
You dig it along with the thought of morning,
The trail of two wheels.

Every empire is a room without windows.
The eager audience of Soul.
Anguish is control.

The languishing Lover
The vanquished Father
Will never know they're mist
Or explosions that fan the fire.

The debris of a kiss.
The God confounding bliss.