The WarSong

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Song Lyrics  |  House: Booksie Classic
An lengthy song/poem I have been working on. It was originally supposed to be for a contest, but I missed the deadline. I think it holds some value, so I thought I'd post it here. I'm not going to bother telling you what it's about, because I believe how the reader interprets a piece is vital to the growth of the piece. Please enjoy!

Submitted: September 29, 2009

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Submitted: September 29, 2009

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The WarSong


Shoot!

March left,
March right,
Scramble in
Packed tight
Helmets on
Rifles ready
Aim
Shoot

Your political colors
All up in smoke
Your rash pride all about you
In cheerful folk

The wings of your home
Blazing with mortification
Avoiding the gentle implication,
Of a sweet cure

No, instead your hands
Form the
Metal of God’s own,
Smite

The sun is dying
With anxious hue
To view the battle
From afar the gray

You loose the dogs
Who howl with malicious delight
Into the red night
No thorns can make bleed the beast

If you hear me laugh,
It is only in good merriment

March left,
March right,
Scramble out!
Tumble!
Ready,
Aim,
Shoot!

Did I own a good life?
Did I make the good life?
Did I marry the good wife?
Did I have the good wife?

If only you came here
Before I vowed my allegiance
If only you arrived,
Only moments earlier
Before I avowed, to retrieve,
The blood,
Of my brothers

Did I own a fast car?
Did I bake the bread?
Did I carry the heavy weight?
Did I have a decent debate?

Accomplishments in sand
Erode away with the tide
The moon spoils my creations
I spoil the ride

Did I sign the paper?
Did they give me a sword?
Did I have the willpower?
Did I think another word?

Run right,
Strafe left,
Rumble with your prayers
Look out!
Duck for cover!
Ready,
Aim,
Shoot!
You got him good!

The ghouls are howling
The ghosts are crawling
Into shadowy complexes
Awaiting the reaper
My demons are awaking
After dormant slumber
I throw a green one
And pray to God,
It sunders

Your political country
Muddled with glorified,
Death

Abuses the privilege
Of simplified freedom
Lest you desire doom

 In the ash of moonlight
We weave through craters
Our hands salute the captain
Maintain our posture and press,
On.
Stringing together fingernails,
We collected from something
Curiously playing with bones,
We believe belonged to something

Red scraped across my face,
A sap of blood from my forehead.

They are trying to reach my friend,
But they ran into a dead end.

Quiet venom leaks from
Whimpering suns
Bleed, bleed, bleed,
The captain yells,
With all his fervor.

Pixies of unforgiving chaos race
Through air like shards of pennies,
Steel flakes wrapping around the tides
Of the breeze.

Glimpses of home now and again,
It helps to fill the void.
Scenes of urban décor,
It assists in keeping me knowing
What I’m fighting for.

High numbers bring me hearts,
So I lose the game.
Patrick lights my a white one,
Brown from all the sand.

A screeching hound travels from tent to tent
Screaming his saliva
The malaise he is trying to find,
We have already found.

In the cinders of sunlight
We weave through shadowed abodes
Our hands salute the captain
Maintain our posture and press,
On.

Our craven attitude concealed by battered
Bones
We rape the countryside with our shells and
Fire

Our diplomatic intentions washed away by the
Sea
Torn into confusion by the mastered
Shooter

The pigs with jagged fangs
Carelessly flinging around their saliva
Capitalizing on their disguises with guile promises
The war will yield benefits
They meander about aimlessly; constantly
Whilst they stand on their podiums
Us little ones shuffle through the wooden boards
And slums, yelling out at pushy
Ones and yanking at each other’s hair

Did I see the face of the devil?
Did I pray to God to live?
Did I think my faith would be enough?
Did I find the way home?

Did the pigs ever reward me?
Did the clasps ever loosen?
Did I have the good life?
Do you want to answer?

March left,
Right,
Left,
Right,
March left,
Halt!
About face!
Salute the captain,
Turn right,
March,
March,
Halt!
Synchronization,
Helmets on,
Guns out
Aim,
Aim,
Ready
Shoot!
Shoot!
Shoot man, shoot!
God damnit, shoot!
Right!
March,
March
Halt,
As you were
(chuckles)


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