/lit/ - Literature

wtf did he mean by this(??), is this poem about war


Humanity of upstanding mouths spitting fire,
A drum roll at the war’s dark front,
Stepping through the fog of blood; black iron rings out
In despair. Night in mournful brains;
Here is Eve’s shadow, hunting and red money.
Clouds, the light breaking through, the evening meal.
The safe silence found in bread and wine
Where they are twelve in number.
Night cries out amid the sleep under the olive trees;
Saint Thomas dips his hand into the scar

>>16342331
im starting to disociate with reality and everything i see is pointing to the universe being a construct of my mind, i feel as though things happen just for me. no one is "real" and im a god locked in my own sad mockery. imprisoned by myself so i dont feel so alone. despite my better judgement i can't escape this feeling that all of reality is just a dream.