Enemy (Version 2) Poem by Alexander Romanov

I seek an enemy to find me peace,
To render all meaning into cold objectivity.
So that the sparks scatter behind my form,
Hatred, a torch ablaze, casting shadows dark.

I crave an enemy to breathe and to live,
In tranquility, sensing their presence near.
For every day to sew malice to another,
And lies to burst like shells, detonating clear.

I need an enemy to mirror my own being,
A wretched soul, tormented by ruthless strife.
Drinking deeply from the bottles' hollow end,
Growing frail, a child burdened with age's knife.

I yearn for an enemy to face my true self,
When love's embrace holds me tender and tight.
Searching with a trembling hand, stained red,
For secrets in the dress folds, hidden from sight.

And he shall come, standing before my gaze,
Penetrating, eyes meeting, intense and deep.
Glittering like the moon reflected in my eyes,
Slightly magnified with the tears that we weep.

The poplar fluff shall ignite and turn to ash,
Sudden rage sparking, a fiery tempest's birth.
They will hasten towards the depths of hell,
Wearing foolish hats, mocking all they're worth.

The iron of bayonets will rust, soaked in blood,
Testing the unyielding strength of stone-cold faces.
Evil will surge forth from the edges of madness,
And drunkenness will revel in the depths of hatred's spaces.

As I witness one fall into the gaping void,
Forgetting the agony of their grievous defeat,
All I'll see is myself, lying prone on the floor,
Pleading for the miracle of a resurrection feat.