Baroque battles

All the lights turn off,

we lift our invisible artillery

our army's arteries overflow with red

like a squad hawk-eyed for the first move.

For an infinitessimal second,

the overly pronounced "k" confronts the formidable "sh"

dying to reach a minute of unison

yearning to resolve the strife in a bubble-bath of peace.

His swaying movements form figure-eights,

a raised eyebrow foretells the eerie cry

for the moment of climatic confrontation

to finally reach its teary end.

The heavenly acoustics travel across the field

as we resolve the chord of justice

like the triumph of a just-won soldier

raising the bar of sought-for armistice