11-20-2014, 12:54 AM
A call, a cry, a father’s name; a hundred heads turn round.
No John, or David, Pete or Mat will bring the born Mohammeds down.
Though saints infest the West, the East protects the sneaking thief
that steals her sons from thoughtful life,
named in good faith to limit strife...
all synonyms for grief.
A century, millennium; time bombed by history.
The curse of being son of man eats hearts and souls; a mystery
made secret by your place of birth. Unsure of what life means,
the young treat death as blessed demise
to trade for early paradise
and everlasting dreams.
Love when you can for gods are strange, and do not love you back.
Why else do mortals fight their fights, in holy lands, in black Iraq,
in sunlit places, made for peace? They kill us with commands
to maim, to glorify a Faith.
Oh, how we run the final race
right into hell’s hands.
tectak
2014 and onwards
No John, or David, Pete or Mat will bring the born Mohammeds down.
Though saints infest the West, the East protects the sneaking thief
that steals her sons from thoughtful life,
named in good faith to limit strife...
all synonyms for grief.
A century, millennium; time bombed by history.
The curse of being son of man eats hearts and souls; a mystery
made secret by your place of birth. Unsure of what life means,
the young treat death as blessed demise
to trade for early paradise
and everlasting dreams.
Love when you can for gods are strange, and do not love you back.
Why else do mortals fight their fights, in holy lands, in black Iraq,
in sunlit places, made for peace? They kill us with commands
to maim, to glorify a Faith.
Oh, how we run the final race
right into hell’s hands.
tectak
2014 and onwards