Truce

Now sleeps the sky,
the earth even the sea.
Stood seconds,
war fighting, blod.
It was inoculated by
the virgin mother of the infant.
Point after the armistice
surging rapids,
waves hit the ship
sides, and in
a foam-over.

The truth, as
lie, whether it
indifferent?
Then the
humanity
the wrath of the legs remain.