A Silute holds a makeshift gun to my head.
There is a moment of stillness as the gun sways
Behind my head telling me to follow this dogma. “I want to be a heretic against my life”.
So I beg the silute to pull the trigger,
To squeeze it slowly without remorse, emotion.
The silute talks about my loved ones, and ‘He’
Threatens me with their lives, I am conflicted with
The thought of being the cause of all the slaughter.
So instead he pushes me into a void of Happy depression... I am frozen in the void.
Reflecting on life, all the pain and misery.
I see the light of happiness but I refuse.
I would rather be pulled into the darkness.
Bang.
May 4, 2016
May 4, 2016 at 3:00 PM UTC
You do not believe in progress.
You believe in the safeguard of
Your own Citadel of vitality.
You garrison it with your soul .
You shield it against oblivion so
Your purity persevered.
You preempt the impending moment;
You pause in the void that you call
Your life.
This is not what I call progress.
Dec 4, 2015
Dec 4, 2015 at 5:23 PM UTC
What have I done but obey the cynical dogma that plagues the patriots?
(then to be rewarded with the cutting rattle of the guns
that dehumanised the holiest saints.
MIA the pawn who obeyed.)
Can we sacrifice to "the Cause", for the end?
(without the other side sacrificing more.
Men should press toward the enemy.
We will win because ten minus one equals nine
Rip the glorified general.)
Possibly **** the man I call brother for hesitation.
(with the gun that conscripted me to his side.
"killed for the disobeying of orders".
They will say that I was a traitor
But never a man of his country
RIP the brother that hesitated.)
Justify the sin that will be forced upon my brother.
(As I will not commit the sun that will be forced upon me.
RIP the holy deserter.)
The multination of a child.
(Thats what Devils do.
That's what they did to me.
Destroying what I took for granted.
RIP the young amputee.)
Glorification of the war as some sort of game.
("Come sign up you be a hero"
I lied in front of them
But back then I even believed myself.
RIP the gulibal propagandist)
In war winning is living
(Yet not a one I am willing to play.
RIP the veteran)
Destruction of the family tree
(Destiny was not prepared for the irrational.
RIP the mother that worried)
What can possibly justify the glorification in destruction?
Dec 4, 2015
Dec 4, 2015 at 5:22 PM UTC