Ration my breath - terror clandestine in my chest
Mangled, I lay on a foreign forest floor
Caught in an instant, divided by distance
Alone in the fray, clutching my trigger I pray
As I make amends with death on a distant shore
Such is the fate of the nation state
Despite the myths they propagate
The narrative never fits the crime
Democracy’s died this death a thousand times
The masses kneel before the golden cross - held by the priest who bows at the feet of the king
We stand alone in the dust of what could be, fighting to find our humanity.
Bury me with my name in an unmarked grave
Another casualty to the vanity of history
The war marches on after the killing ends
Take our lives: Colonize our minds.
I’ve been digging through timelines, historical bylines;
I find the fatal flaw in our design lies between thoughts we had and words we knew - between what we’re told and what is true
Who fuels the fascist? A classist - inculcating the masses in passes...
Under the contrived countenance of contrition.
The victor writes the story - more often burns the manuscript
Set fire to a pyre, cremate the crimes that they commit
But the flames kept us warm, so we bit our tongues and tasted scorn.
The bitter stench of finite men betrayed by the thieves they swore to pretend
The bell will toll and in the end lay only echoes of what could have been.
We stand alone in the dust of what could be, fighting to find our humanity
We stand alone in the dust of what could be;
Nothing we fought for will set us free.
Throw myself, headlong, to the jaws of the beast: The war machine that feeds for eternity.
Throw myself, headlong, to the jaws of the beast: The war machine that turns for eternity.
Throw myself, headlong, to the jaws of the beast: The war machine that feeds for eternity.
Throw myself, headlong, to the jaws of the beast: The war machine that turns for eternity.
