Poezja

Making love to my demons
Under the flag of my country
Caught in between the never
believer
And a pardon of angels,
Who bargain their souls for my redemption?

Empowered by a nation,
Glorified by heroes departed
My life sanctified by religious
compromise
For tonight I fly, under the
bombers moon

Nearer to God than most
I see the world differently,
This Earth orbits in a sea of
cold
My plane hidden in its recess,
A place where silent screams
dwell
And rainbows are sent to die.

Away from the gaze of my enemy,
A phrase worthy of the Devil
Away from the patriots sting,
These too, sanctified by a
religious hand
The History books dilemma

My run begins
My mind listens to a confess of
whispers,
The engines my Priest,
Bomb doors open,
Horsemen of The apocalypse,
Released from their tethers

I am the Arbiter of Death
As in Nature, Chance will decide
The faceless will fall
And god willing I will return
home

In the scheme of things
A Cities worth is one minute, 23
seconds
The camera to record in slow mo
for Posterity,
A justification for the victorious

The Impact sweeps away the sweat
of past generations
Creates queues of ghosts,
waiting,
To lay in row after row, of white
marble
Their silent screams absorbed
into Heaven’s Gate,
A cold Hallelujah for God to
judge

Just another day on planet earth
But don’t worry,
Time, like, the brook of sighs,
will wash away these sins
But not the seeds,

For we are the gardeners of sin,
Their germination, lovingly
corrupted
In our differences, them and us
The Pillars of capitalism our
advantage
The fear of the Devil theirs

Our final epitaph in the circle
of life,
We are conditioned to repeat the
mistakes of the past,

As is the Wilder beast to cross
the River of Death,
Or theologians using religion as
a weapon of war
The devil and the Crocodile dines
well, on such a menu
We truly are, a blessed Race.