Berlin

Berlin is just another name to drown

You opened yourself with more syllables

Autumn turned its head again

Fair Persephone,

I go through the stars

To marry the night

As we married feathers and stones

To crush the leaves in disbelief

Shots heard through the hills

These are empty shells

Gasping in frost-like fields

Sterling by the sun

Skins slip into the sun

Like charcoals before the tundra

But those are unrelated to Berlin, does it?

September 2025

By Aran Meredith