Monday, August 2, 2010


Sit down, Madame, take a seat!
Stay your hands and cross your feet,
You see those drops of crystal rain?
They're tears, madame, tears of pain.
The clouds thunder, with rage replete,
While the skies light up in white defeat.

A storm, my doll, a storm is here!
The clash and clatter of woes is near!
The swirling red among the white,
Is naught but blood shed in the fight,
But hush, now, don't cry, my dear,
You disrespect them with your fear.

You see the frothing ribbons there?
Those once were men, tall and fair,
Now all that's left is pus and flesh,
Poisoned, speared and cut afresh,
What? You find it hard to bear?
My dove, you're yet to have your share.

Can you hear the wailing cries?
It's the sound of man as he dies,
And as life leaks out from cracking skin,
The killed becomes the killer's kin,
And the fear you feel is but a lie,
Do you know what it's like to die?

Do you know what it is to hate?
To wield the metal of a blade,
And to damn yourself either way,
Whether you take a life or give yours away?
Hands once bloodied, bloodied remain,
What hasn't been broken will have been maimed.

And while you sit beside this hearth,
Those men return into the dirt,
Having fought for you, my heart!
Having ruined themselves, their souls depart,
The Devil will embrace them all with mirth,
And God will frown upon the earth.

You, My death, you've made them sinners,
You've taken their homes and poisoned their dinners,
You've turned their blades on fellow men,
You've begun a game that has no end,
A game that never can yield winners,
But only men, and those men, killers.

No comments:

Post a Comment