As the acclaimed veteran
Of platoon numbered eleven

Slowly crossed the median
His senses now deadened

Remembers the Perdition
Of another’s ambition

Causing his rank to mitigate
No more does he negotiate…

Nor does he live in harmony
With his country’s

now sworn enemy

'Tis only his Duty

to carry

out his orders of blasphemy
In a tide of hatred and litany

He hears the bowels of his comrade splatter
Knows without seeing this matter

That the lost body in tatters
Will become nothing

Senseless Chatter

The loud scream of the bazooka
Playing the part of Judah

Lying still

awaiting in sabotage
His troupes only camouflage

In the green forest of Oz
Amongst this bloody entourage

Moving

Twisting

In transit

Hearing

Seeing

Turns into it

Down to the ground with a swoop
Seeking and destroying the coupe

The acclaimed veteran relives
the horrific days of war

Often he wonders

Why?



What for?