They Retreat They Rage

In the choppy waters
Of the world, the wars
They wage. Against
Right and wrong, they
Retreat, they rage.

Using guns, grenades, growing
Greater power by the hour.
Watched by wise eyes of
Children, chilling story of horror,
Witness to the warrior,
Run ragged, hungry and hurt,
But first, a sudden burst.
Enemy fire kills the desire
To lie down, retire for the
Night, no peace after light, just one
More fight, with the bullets’ bite.

The great green tanks trudge by,
Mechanical brothers, born without mothers.
Made to make the fight more fierce.
To terrorize and victimize with sandy silhouettes
Against the sun-soaked desert of death, but a
Single flower blooms in certain doom, so we assume.
The only light is fading life, watered
By boiling blood.

Heavy artillery shells fly like fireworks
Fast through the night.
Artificial light, might be the end
The final battle, bombs banging on bunker
Doors, fall to the floor.
Air whips the white flag flying
Freely, but cold as steel he
Shoots the peaceful, the blinding bright white
Turns ragged red, they begin to battle again,
And bullets begin to hiss by his head.