The street shudders through the glass as they grind their way past
En route to the core of the flame
With steel and mirage and in headgear camouflage
They’ve come to release us again
From the arms of the beast so be thankful at least
For the temporary loss of our freedom
Fire shatters the glass with sonic-boom pass
En route to the heart of the game
With napalm and greed and all the money they need
They don’t come in any god’s name
Nor does the beast with a thousand year lease
Own the right to our lives and our children
7 comments:
Methinks the poets are all who will be left.
They usually kill the poets first :(
Nicely written!
I don't know how you do it but you've captured the whole world and it's drama in the most staggering manner. I really like what you've done here, Pisces, the juxtaposition of rhyming with with the utter and senseless atrocity of the subject matter. Brilliantly done.
Good pace and rhythm
Fantastic!!
"They don't come in any god's name
Nor does the beast with a thousand year lease" Exactly
What a crazy world,I can't wait to see the end of all that madness,hope it will be soon,even if it means death for all of us,cause I think death isn't the end and I chose death over pain.
CherriePie; Vanilla & Candie: Oddly enough, I wrote this (about Iraq)in December and shelved it thinking it irrelevant (or at least past relevant) - Trust the {Naz}israelis to prove me wrong again.
Linda from Darwen: Thanks and welcome
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