Saturday, 15 June 2024

The endless trudge (Still they come)

 


The endless trudge,

evil feet march across

mud, guts and blood.

Low vibrational mental brain fog

dripping with thoughts

of hate tainted sludge.

They don't retreat.

No turning heel.

No need for ambulances,

no one can be allowed to heal.

No need for a drum,

that resonance

isn't something to feel.

Mortar fire keeps the beat.

This surely can't be real.

No call to sing songs,

just an unearthly hum,

groaned through ground down gums

under a moon

sat looking so tired and glum.

Still, they march, still they come.

 

That intense ringing

of death bells giving in.

Collapsing out of the fight.

Their songs winding down

as gunfire and rockets

take up the spaces vacated

by the sounds exiting stage right.

The army of the night

marches on. Eyes vacantly

scanning the mutilated.

Enemy, child, mother, any other.

Won't be any enemies for long.

The barrage begins.

Silhouette army moving

in breakbeat strobe light insanity.

Still, they come.

 

Purity hides in schoolyards

Beneath teachers blood stained bodies,

shielding to guard.

Best friend lays headless,

bullet holes chip away

at anything that remains.

"Get down on your knees"

They scream furiously,

after firing weapons continuously.

Noncombatant. No weapons.

No acts of violence.

Just innocence with dead eyed stare.

Compliance through shaking fear.

Fear in every heartbeat, in case they hear.

Ambush. Armed guards

raise the alarms. Shoot to kill.

Don't aim to maim.

Why?

There is no one left here,

no-one remains.

No one left to feel the pain.

Just the dead empty rain.

Yet still they come.

 

Fire, fire, shouting

fire in a hospital theatre.

Bad actors. King for a day,

in a stage play adaption of misery.

Liar, liar. Pants as he runs

from machine gun fire.

Before falling dead, no escape.

Bullet holes and blood replace

the once cheerful smiling face.

Shout as loud as you can.

We see the lies through eyes that tire.

Your truth just doesn't scan.

It’s all a land grab, funded by us.

Who can we trust?

Those innocent lives lost,

or the ones who want to kill at any cost.

Yet still they come

and we do nothing but watch on.

 

 

 

Thanks for reading

Follow this link for all of my books, 
 
videos and social media.
 
 
and please grab a copy of my Audiobook edition
 
of "Poetic Outlaw" 

 
Every click, book purchase, like & share 
 
really helps me to keep doing what I love.
 
 
Peace, Love & Poetry 
 
Kyle
 

 

No comments:

Post a Comment

Please comment here i will reply to all

Name

Email *

Message *