Protesting Along The Frontlines Poem by Ace Of Black Hearts

Excuse me sir.
Forgive me if last night was a blur.
Memories suppressed.
Diving right into the toxic soup.
Is it blood?
Drip, drip.
I think this sink has got a leak.
Fixing it in the dark.
A shovel packed and ready to go.
So where is this body buried.
Do we really have to.
A video that will not answer single question.
Just thoughts of it creates this unbearable indigestion.
Stomach aches a common occurrence on these kind of front lines.
Just looking for a way out.
A swing and a miss intentionally.
I will not shoulder that responsibility.
Nothing so cynically accidentally.
Pills to swallow.
Take your medicine and go.
What if I don't want to.
And a shell goes off.
An explosion brightening the nights poorly lit skies.
Bravery easily forgotten as chills run up your spine.
Looking at the choices.
Opportunities for an early grave.
War is only ever for the truly depraved.
Just watch how the crazed behave.
A egotistical blister.
Pleasure in a meat grinder that is heavily packing.
Odds ever stacking.
Burrowing down in a hole eating the dirt as if it was desert.
Smiling faces upon deaths silent melody.
Get us by, get us by.
The flight zeroing in.
If you can recognize the enemy you must be one of them.
Filthy as sin and starving.
Not wanting to be deaths lowly servant.
Deliver me from oblivion.
Choose a path a little less rotten.
Savages I heard some one call them.
Acting like we should be proud.
Upon this rape, pillaging and plundering.
I claim no salvation or shelter here.
All I can see for miles is absolute destruction and fear.
No amount of pictures will do it justice.
If you haven't been here you really should.
Lets see if they will kill there own from back home.
Standing in front of a firing squad.
Waiting for them to start there march.
You want them dead, you'll have to kill me first.
Draw your sword and stick it in.
They are million behind me, just like me.
You call us peace loving idiots.
I call you guys fucking hypocrites.
So go ahead send your battalions of infantry in.
After all its your battle, but don't ever forget its also ours.
Send every last country men.
A split in actions and authority.
No sense of a true majority.
Numb to the sounding off of words.
What do the really mean?
How do we address the demons?
Following numbers generated by pack of lies.
Propaganda generated by the men in suit and ties.
They have no understanding of true loss.
They have no understanding of sacrifice.
So pampered in a enclosed environment.
Sheltered and given wings.
Freedom masked among the tiny grains of sand.
More promises from the promise land.
In this perpetual circus of vindictive do or dies.
Oh how it comes as no surprise.
More deception through a parasites eyes.
Images to distract and numb the impact.
But all murder claims its victims.
There is no such thing as innocent as long as you are making buck from it.
Ghouls to reap soon to be lost souls.
How can I allow this without losing a bit of control.
This temperament has no reins.
It drives a course masterfully straight into the insane.
For if one must be crazy about something let it be for all of mankind.
Nothing so divine, nothing so pure.
No matter how futile the effort.
One can't just let up or give up.
For this machine is only getting faster and faster.
And as the wheel keeps on spinning.
Once again one can not wonder but what will be left.
When nothing of monetary value is.
A price tag place upon the shelf.
An insurmountable cost of human life that can't never be calculated in dollar and cents.
What if one of those you have kill would have been inventor of an intergalactic speed of light engine.
What if we destroyed our very last hope out of greed.
How could anyone be foolish enough to allow this to be.
We imagine ourselves all be treated equally.
Unless they happen to be foreign to this country.
Then they can starve, die of disease, be raped or murdered in there sleep.
Do we not owe each other a responsibility of all humanity survival.
Beyond the years we know now.
And so little do we yet know.
To busy distracted by all the shiny objects put in our hands to keep us but a servant and slave to that which those who own it crave.
Moral objectivity, where is it?
Am I truly naive in believing that we have evolved long ago from the times of Greece and Rome?
Maybe my eyes are packed full of snow.
But so what, so what if I can see the glitter where others can not.
In my endless pursuit of happiness only one thing will ever suffice, an end to all the needless violence.