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huntAblunt Feb 2017
Oceans full of tears
have been shed
when mothers cried
the whole world slept
and fathers so upset
full of fears and doubt to fly
that time just passed on by

Rivers of pain floated
into the sea of blood
water foul of sickness and disagree
until it overturned so very loudly
that the govenor stated proudly

„Now it all comes to the end!
As flowers bend with rainfall
You cannot resist
Wtch the show!“

Disturbing advertisement of peace

Mothers keep on crying seas
that still are full of fears
and the world it has no ears
no eyes to see, no heart to feel
in mothers hearts embedded roses
will be dying in this world of steel

But the govenor chose this

„Advertisement needs an end!
Because the soldier need his hand
to load and fire, reload fire
to built a brutally hurting wire
so the unwilling enseated
cant leave the programme“

Otherwise he needed to get it off the station
but without some noise and pain
will there ever be a nation
glorious like ours, and gain
while the mothers dropping flowers?

Onto the fabricated plastic box
giving the last honour to her child

„Its a very special model, so
why had she cried?! Disturbing
the willing enseated mind refusers
she will bend their will, confuse us
We, that gloriously trodding on
the road of freedom!
To establish freedom means
to accept victims!“

Finally the question is
To whom does serve the system?

And the govenor again is stating proudly
like a schoolkid, loudly
to convince his teacher

„I know the answer!
Guess my preacher!“

„Well shout it right into the room.
Perhaps youre saved
and very soon we burried
the old enemies without doom
to finally establish peace!“

which will be a small bucket
filled with water hot as fire
to cool down a million souls
Virtuous Aug 28
I shiver with a nervous chill
As I stand incredibly still.
Dressed in black of silk, twice-pressed,
A rose of red upon my breast.

High King Alasdair lies at rest,
Pickled corpse dressed in solemn best.
Stone-faced priests in ritual vests
Offer up incense cakes to guests.

Silent is the Hall of Passing,
False the tears of those in mourning.
Every sigh a shrilling laugh,
Grief and pain all pre-choreographed.

Seven spiders and fourteen lice,
Coven of liars, lords of vice:
Every one enseated here,
Scheme and plot whilst stewing in fear.

Cosmic thread of lies enweaved,
******* sons and daughters conceived:
Fighting for the Starry Throne–
The sounds of war give pleasured moans.

As a Requiem starts to play,
All who are present bow to pray.
Great and grand Galactic Mass,
Liturgy for a blessed farce.

Past the ghastly Introitus,
"Kyrie Eleison!"–Have mercy on us.
Ships and drones now lie in wait,
Pistols, disablers, knives and fate.

I get up and say my prayers.
Leave this hall of **** betrayers.
As I close the door behind,
Shots now click and fire in kind.

I breathe a sigh: it's coming soon.
Power shifts like the waning moon.
Death and Hades at our door:
Seven-way galactic war.

— The End —