The hero's square
The hero's square
afflicted people
contemplate your face
under a gray cloud
in the stench of a homeland.
The senses are shaken
for the sad song of the pigeons
asking for corn
with bony figure,
mirror of the nation.
A whirlwind of dry leaves
falls from the trees
by a spectral air
in the shade of the feet
of the hero.
Separator
Raw poetry that speaks of loss. The autumn of a broken country, where even the pigeons of the squares have been disappearing. The relationship between: hero - nation - hunger is interesting.
Decadence without saviors, no breakthrough is glimpsed. There is a kind of conformity with the decline. Only contemplation of the slow fall of the robust tree that was a rich country, now plunged into misery.
Good writing, brother! Quite descriptive and heartfelt.
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Thank you sister. The reality of our existence.
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Truly touching convincing and the imagery is just pure. Your pen is still burning like a fire friend @corderosiete I'm happy for you
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