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Back to War - The Never Ending Game
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Literature Text
The moment the last birds cease their chants
The moment the first tank enters the sights
Of those dwelling in terror, living in strife
Of those horrified living their own life.
Back to war, the never ending game
Back to stories written for fame
Back to the fields, the bloody gallows
A war stretching on the deathly fallows.
"Heads up!" The sergeant calls.
But in an instance he falls rightly down
"Hit by a bullet!" Someone recalls
"We will avenge with lives of our own!"
The skies are red, bullets are flying
Soldiers keep dying, children are crying
Weapons fire; death will just thrive
"Fire at will! Let none survive!"
Hills painted red, gardens are too
I am here writing the war inside you
The grass is iron green, forests are fiery
Every day, soldiers, corpses we bury…
This never ending game is war
Screams and others turn air blue
No one wins; they've gone too far
Why they fight? I've got no clue!
I try to hide the sounds of death
By playing my guitar in silence
But we will still have to bring wreath
To those falling to the cannon's cadence.
Back to war, the never ending game
Finish this struggle in God's name
I wish it all stopped now
And the poet shall take his bow.
Peace was never found again
The battlefield remained so cold
Still outnumbered one to ten
They fought to death for this cruel world.
The moment the first tank enters the sights
Of those dwelling in terror, living in strife
Of those horrified living their own life.
Back to war, the never ending game
Back to stories written for fame
Back to the fields, the bloody gallows
A war stretching on the deathly fallows.
"Heads up!" The sergeant calls.
But in an instance he falls rightly down
"Hit by a bullet!" Someone recalls
"We will avenge with lives of our own!"
The skies are red, bullets are flying
Soldiers keep dying, children are crying
Weapons fire; death will just thrive
"Fire at will! Let none survive!"
Hills painted red, gardens are too
I am here writing the war inside you
The grass is iron green, forests are fiery
Every day, soldiers, corpses we bury…
This never ending game is war
Screams and others turn air blue
No one wins; they've gone too far
Why they fight? I've got no clue!
I try to hide the sounds of death
By playing my guitar in silence
But we will still have to bring wreath
To those falling to the cannon's cadence.
Back to war, the never ending game
Finish this struggle in God's name
I wish it all stopped now
And the poet shall take his bow.
Peace was never found again
The battlefield remained so cold
Still outnumbered one to ten
They fought to death for this cruel world.
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Written for Heart of Poetry's prompt: survival.
© 2012 - 2024 Brici5
Comments7
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The prompt is interesting, but the poem more so. It's a bit more the opposite of survival, perhaps so opposite as to come full circle?