Friday, September 9, 2011

The Breathing Boys

The breathing boys battle those death lost.
Their minds and mettle calm tremored hands,
Making guns to greatness in bleak lands.
It's cold and chaos that keeps their breath,
Purging the sickness, scorching those left.

But the world gets lost in entropy.
Recovering the rubble does naught,
The aftermath leaves us wrecked, distraught.
Then rises the tribes and savage wars.
Kill the Walking, it's us we abhor.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Wow, this is very dark, intense....excellent "word picture" of battle....