footprints in the earth.....
Bludgeon
In blood and strife is baptism
the final cry of the fallen
whose conviction made them cry
for affairs of state with silver eyes
bones of metal skin on steel
overthrowing hills and countries
leaving a trail of justifiable sorrow
for a generation to forget tommorow
in search for that essential power equation
the unchallenged domineering nation
fueled by propaganda and the tales
of ancient fables of males
when reality takes its toll
and corpses litter like forgotten dolls
whose hand is handcuffed and mocked
dispute like calvary and the cross
soldiers and the rites of war
angels of contention waiting for more
war heroes with cases to honour
how many bodies to define valour
voice of peace and cowardice
challenge of elephants over mice
children off to the army
certainly may not see forty
compensation for our sons
too unripe to see the sun
armeggedeon true and typefied
why wait for judgement cries
illusion of swords into plowshares
records yet to be ascertained
insanity ingrained
power of the war machine
echoing for reason
true heroes of war
won the battle without losing their toes
history traces that we have
to salvage sorrow and happiness carve
for the future to have hope
we commemorate the deserving such
who reflected on battle in more than attire
and resounding soldiers with principled fire
the streets filled with a millon marching
not just for victory but demanding
that leaders run riot at the battle front
and justify the nations purse
If this may seem archaic
then public life is dramatic and tragic
And modern states do not exist
but are theatres for witty theives
and roses are not for the garden
but for widows to prepare for mourning
for young men who should not enlist
not until they have seen their wisdom teeth
which should be preferably at forty
not adventurers aching for the cemetary
to hide the hours of a misspent youth
spent demanding from prostitutes
and chasing pleasure in uniform
just to sleep in front of a gun
and forget the challenges of leaving
and leave the nation grieving
for hands that should have been tilling
the land and busy with harvesting
the news of nuclear competition
hidden agenda of every nation
They that learn the rites of war
are to persist in warring no more.
the final cry of the fallen
whose conviction made them cry
for affairs of state with silver eyes
bones of metal skin on steel
overthrowing hills and countries
leaving a trail of justifiable sorrow
for a generation to forget tommorow
in search for that essential power equation
the unchallenged domineering nation
fueled by propaganda and the tales
of ancient fables of males
when reality takes its toll
and corpses litter like forgotten dolls
whose hand is handcuffed and mocked
dispute like calvary and the cross
soldiers and the rites of war
angels of contention waiting for more
war heroes with cases to honour
how many bodies to define valour
voice of peace and cowardice
challenge of elephants over mice
children off to the army
certainly may not see forty
compensation for our sons
too unripe to see the sun
armeggedeon true and typefied
why wait for judgement cries
illusion of swords into plowshares
records yet to be ascertained
insanity ingrained
power of the war machine
echoing for reason
true heroes of war
won the battle without losing their toes
history traces that we have
to salvage sorrow and happiness carve
for the future to have hope
we commemorate the deserving such
who reflected on battle in more than attire
and resounding soldiers with principled fire
the streets filled with a millon marching
not just for victory but demanding
that leaders run riot at the battle front
and justify the nations purse
If this may seem archaic
then public life is dramatic and tragic
And modern states do not exist
but are theatres for witty theives
and roses are not for the garden
but for widows to prepare for mourning
for young men who should not enlist
not until they have seen their wisdom teeth
which should be preferably at forty
not adventurers aching for the cemetary
to hide the hours of a misspent youth
spent demanding from prostitutes
and chasing pleasure in uniform
just to sleep in front of a gun
and forget the challenges of leaving
and leave the nation grieving
for hands that should have been tilling
the land and busy with harvesting
the news of nuclear competition
hidden agenda of every nation
They that learn the rites of war
are to persist in warring no more.
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Bludgeon
Bludgeon
