War Criminal

this is the here
at the end of the road
from there to here
the here of here with no regrets
for the time spent there or in between 

I wash my hands
of the dirt and the dust
absorbed between there and here

there were pale children on the road
between me there and me here
there were filthy men and women
rod-hard dogs ravenning
cats as quick as bats
to put their fangs upon our necks
from hunger or pain

I do not regret how many I trampled
or pushed past to get to here
every angel is terrible
I do not regret the dogs and cats I slew
every angel is terrible

now that I am here
I open my blood-tipped wings
this is a heaven I’ve earned
here is where I choose to make
the gates of pearl

they may call me what they will
I walked the road I was meant to walk
and put my feet where they were meant to step
and now I am here
the here of my heel in the clotted earth
made to stand 
made to stand firm
made
not born
to be here