A Yuletide Remembrance

 

Smoked ash and broken timber

She is watching from the elliptic balcony

I am in tune with the whispers of tomorrow

The sound of tinder boxes scratching

The trenches squirming slightly

I am waiting upon deliverance

 

Wartime sadness mingled with peacetime regret

Brandished upon Sister Mary’s approval

I am but a puppet against the tide

Echoing hallways of eternity

My mind is but a puppet against the tide

I am waiting upon the tide

 

The sound of tinderboxes scratching

I see my enemy crouched behind

He looks a lot like me

A frivolous leaf floating

Upon the shedded treaties of yore

I am waiting upon the recognition of forlornity

 

Brazen beasts are charging

The order comes down the line

The tide is rising

We are but lifted pieces

Stomping about and making noise

I am waiting upon purpose

 

Gunpowder rising like the sun

Afraid and bold like a crippled eagle

Taking what was theirs for myself

Is this fraternity

Is this pride

I am waiting upon the tide to take me

 

After morning pains

Killing sounds are rounding

She can’t hear me no

I can’t hear myself no

But perhaps I can hear the whistle

The whistle of patriotic ignorance

 

Foggy eyes closeted by myopia

Tears cascading the bends

Blood rushing

Adrenaline pumping

I am waiting

I have waited for so long

 

Death comes like a swift axe

Cutting as a vengeful ethos

Pervading into the minds of my brethren

I am the soldier upon the casket

I am the babe upon the cradle

She takes me there

 

No longer am I waiting

 

Rompere

Hell is much like life

Except there are more damn annoying mimes

And less good times