Bryulovs
brushes lick at a
Spider Web
cast in lands of dead souls
living in light
Dwelling in places always between
Justice 
 in strokes of an
artists pain. A limb
Lost. Life cast as
nothing.
Now
 Icarus's wings clipped
And carrier pigeons of
 death spill cotton into
 streets,
  silk convoys
of fire.
Carried by a cossack horse 
drinking from an enemy trough
And tadpoles in the sky
 blow bridge threads
To objects captured
 Anchor points to
A history erased.
Triangulating to a new
Frame.
Prose painting new
Victory
Shadows bent in smoke 
Like tridents raised
A radius spiraling
Valiantly to the sky
Awash in Romance