Regeneration

sparked had another meaning, devoid of light
grateful for some books and blurred letters\ from= Swansea?Edinburgh, Brighton, a blue peter bilo collage funny strips of light
a copy of regeneration too
it wasn't meant to be this hard on the chronichler or the reader
endless wailing silent agonies walls mutating days getting longer and longer measured in shadows and solitudes.

To the warmongers by S.Sassoon

I'm back again from hell
With loathsome thoughts to sell;
Secrets of death to tell;
And horrors from the abyss.
Young faces bleared with blood
Sucked down into mud,
You shall hear things like this,
Till the tormented slain
Crawl round and once again,
with limbs that twist awry
Moan out their brutish pain,
As the fighters pass them by.

For you our battles shine
With triumph half-divine;
And the glory of the dead
Kindles in each proud eye.

But a curse is on my head
That shall not be unsaid,
And the wounds in my heart are red,
For I have watched them die.