Nor I, a poem written by Eoghan Lyng at

Nor I

Nor I

written by: Eoghan Lyng



The velvet greys approaching,
On a skin tight shot they hang.
The blood beats bearing
Lives so young and cherried.
With a weapon love
Leads material walked
Two languages spat from
The fruits of the same source.
Neither did I shoot nor I
Kill another, or other
For a saddled horse needs a rider
Strong enough to steer a mane.
The hairs have shortened outwards
Where a scar becomes matching
Fetching the men from the boys
Of a conman’s gun gone wrong.
I called out your name
Two dancers on bodies
Reaching a hand to embrace.
The bullets scurried northern, furthered falls
A balder human, boldened and brave.
They died. Nor I lived.

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