War is Kind

A fierce, lyrical meditation on combat drifts through the narrator’s mind, weaving stark battlefield images with unsettling, dream‑like passages. The language shifts from stark command—“Do not weep, maiden, for war is kind”—to fragmented dialogues with the sea and shell, creating a disorienting rhythm that captures both the external roar of artillery and the inner turmoil of those left behind. The poem’s collage of drums, thunderous flags, and dying horses collides with surreal reflections on godhood and silence, pulling listeners into a restless, almost hallucinatory landscape.

Listeners will find a raw, uncompromising portrait of war that refuses easy glorification. By juxtaposing vivid, concrete scenes with absurd, almost mythic whispers, the piece probes the cost of violence on families, soldiers, and the very elements that witness it. The result is a haunting, thought‑provoking experience that lingers long after the final line fades.