What of Ourselves as of Yet?

what of ourselves as of yet?

Compañeros, estamos vivos

Comrades, we are alive

although tight in-between tacky red-stained clay canyons, we struggle

frantically dark, we feel our cool breath brush against our dry cheeks

sharp wind scratches the bridge of our noses

faint stars and vigil candles light our path

beyond the countless trees that transform into forest

we greet death like an old friend

an old friend of our grandparents we haven’t seen in too long

buenas noches, mucho gusto

in-between us and death, here and there, we struggle

we struggle when it rains at midnight

we struggle when the earth beneath us turns to mud

thick and viscous

low rivers grow and cold water seeps through our socks

bullets pick at our skin and burry themselves to lay eggs

y duele cuando nos sale sangre verde olivo

pero sin parrar, sin miedo, and without fail, we struggle

because food tastes better when we’re hungry together

our friend’s camaraderie more lovely

y es cuando la maravilla de lavida florese

Comrades, we are alive

we walk along the thin boarder between here and there

we find ourselves not buried beneath the mud

not without breath, but with an irregular pulse

shaken but not shattered,exhausted but not collapsed

con frio y hambre, pero no solos

the body of the forest although somber is not still

the slow creek of branches sing of human dignity

crickets in the brush vibrate melodies of revolution

and burrowed deep in the trenches of uncertainty, we struggle

death, you old fool, we await your visit another day

tonight we walk a while longer, and then sleep

tomorrow we wake to the warm embrace of dawn

a cup of coffee with breakfast, because there is always work to be done

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