Monday, March 14, 2011

the battle in grey

the Kalashnikov clutched at the chest, in an embrace, not of love
we march on through those forests deep, our duty we shall keep
the earth could have been perfumed another day, beautiful, the dove
but today's the day we rhyme none with beauty, nor shall we sleep


today's when enemies from across, wandered, nay innocent, into ours
they are like us, strangers to this twilight, ours for truth not from fright
what do you know soldier ? cries my leader, my voice, my powers
nothing but the mother ! my land ! roar we, the children of light


the forest passes, civilization I see, city folk who claim they known
they, of the soft eyes and grey wisdom; they who speak of liberty
they, who talk freedom but are knaves to their chains in the earth sown
they, whose faith is not in our mother, we protect as brothers free


our march they laugh at, all is well fools, where do ye rush to ?
your wars shamed us ever, proud of your oppression we be never
shelter you may have, away from our culture that we hold true
humanity be ours say them, but their leaders divide them forever !!


their liege walks humbly, wearing masks, wearing the purity of white
our captain is the man by our side whose chest is broadened with pride,
but the latter is the son who shall remain true, patriotism his blood ignites
that man who speaks bold, his greed leaves his man but only divide


night falls, we camp away from the city, as they did desire
we stand guard, haunted, we search for life that is unwanted
an eerie calm falls, but the soldiers guard the two separate fire
steady, but careful, we let the guard down, no enemy has grunted

the night now fights the break of the day, i wake from the daze
for i hear at the mile, a child screams, death dries up the great nile
we run for the screams morph and flames now erupt like a maze
the enemies strike first, blood lust drowns peace, death creeps while


a massacre we behold ! blood washes the temple of the golden age
blood everywhere we see, blood on streets, blood that of humanity be
blood and fire, blood and smoke, the stench of blood, red as the rage
and the scream of fear ! women, children and the wizened doth flee


the men are being slaughtered, like those at an altar of the barbaric
and a battle begins as our embrace no longer is, we draw our guns fore
and we fight their dance of the death, we give back in full nay trick
this be no war, for their weapon is the seed of fear, what we abhor


my captain leads us like a lion, whilst we watch him and protect his
a mask comes from the back, wielding but a shiny blade he attacks
my weapon is drawn and i point his heart, my aim never does miss
the terror has fallen, and the city is free, but something is amiss


i unmask the one i call a coward, who fights the weak and ravages them
and my heart does bleed, has our bravery been blind to thus mislead ?
the one who i slain is no warrior, but only a boy, a stone not a gem !
seventeen i say he would age now, is my bravery but a misdeed ?


into depths of guilt and misery my conscience falls, i am the killer of a son
i killed a boy, not knowing what be pleasures, driven by lies, and treasure
a treasure to feed the one he loves, who be burdened by poverty's run
i killed him ! i am now the sinner of his mother, i am a sinner sans measure


my leader, scarred for long by battles plenty takes my side and a corner
he looks steely in my eyes and tells me a tale he states them truthful lies
he says unto me, be now a soldier, a son of this soil, be not a mourner
you have done unto the land what shall take yours a heavenly rise


for today, you saved a city, a culture which maybe flawed, bereft of order
for today, you saved a child from destitution, from a flawed institution
for today you saved a wife from a widow, a mother from murder,
and a father from lifting his child's dead coffin, from which nay restitution


countries are at fault, civilizations and cultures not, nations are nay strong
much like the leader of this city which you save, he be but a twisted knave
yes our enemies are no different than we, their paths are misled, maybe wrong
but when the sun sets, do your bidding ever, to your duty become a slave

Monday, March 7, 2011

 I haven't been writing much lately and my last post was about the anti-social side of ours'. i think I would like to continue the same......these lines are about blind faith......not much but just about something to fill those empty moments



what secret speak those beautiful eyes, which say none to me
they trap mine yet that mind flies and a world another I see
sing to me a song of the wind, blowing gently, fragrant rains
Crashing waves roar no more, silent rivers have no more pains

       Mirrors they be called, but deeper they are, oceans entrapped in gold
       for reflections show none but the same, yours nay in truth roll'd
       in darkness or or depths of despair, they light my roads,warm my hands
       these lies of yours my lamps of faith, my beacon of old, take me to great lands.......