Maelstrom

Maelstrom

Transcendental soldiers riding
steeds of mindless steel
clad in trappings suitable for war
patriotic slogans hiding
what they really feel
knowing they have done it all before

shades of souls that never rest
burn them like a flame
and spur them on to deeds they’ll never tell
each of them within his breast
concealing bitter shame
for helping stoke the fire pits of Hell

blood runs red as minions die
performing in a play
directed by political decree
theirs is not to reason why
but only to obey
fighting for the honor to be free

free to breathe polluted air
free to pay their tithe
free to live in cities full of crime
free to subsidize the lair
of those who wield the scythe
and reap the profits of a people’s time

let the steel steeds turn to rust
let the trappings fall
let ghosts of soldiers past no longer thrive
living life is more than just
and giving it is all
one really needs to fully be alive

C. Lon R. Bruso