Friday, November 7, 2008

Angel of Death in Lust

A lit room is empty,
without the shadow of laughter
sons, daughters, mothers, fathers, lost
some under the soil of a
country they once fought for.
Some fighting in countries
where all language is gibberish
blood shed, on their faces
dripping off their mothers' cheek
bullets shot, through bodies
dead used as new age cartridges
Angel of death picking daisies
"I've seen the men,
young and old
in a haze, rushing
towards an enemy, no
running to me they go"