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i will **** you
not because i hate you
i don't know you
so how can i hate you
but i will **** you
'cos that was the order
and i have to obey it

i've killed many
at first it was hard
but not anymore
now it's easy
take aim, pull the trigger
it's that easy, so easy
i wish it wasn't
i wish it was hard

i **** yours and you **** mine
we are told to **** and we ****
that's the life of a soldier
that's the way it goes
we don't decide to ****
but we decide who dies
the enemy we shoot, dies
we shoot to ****

this is war, so we ****
i **** for my people
you **** for yours
i **** for my ideals
you **** for yours
who is right? who is wrong?
are we both right?
or are we both wrong?

does it even matter?
does it matter who is right?
does it matter who is wrong?
no, it doesn't matter
what's right to me
is wrong to you
what's right to you
is wrong to me

so we ****
'cos we can't decide
who's right and who's wrong
i **** some of yours
you **** some of mine
but some survive
some may survive
but all are wounded
vik Jun 30
i woke inside the trench.
my teeth were not my own.
my hand was gone, or chewed
in word i’d never known.

the war was soft and wet.
the skull had turned to chalk.
birds dropped like folded notes.
the siege forgot to talk.

she rode like wrath grown tall.
her helm was grief made gold.
no mercy in her path,
just silence, woe and cold.

the saints had kissed her lips.
their bones were in her hair.
the banner trailed behind,
stitched from a baby’s prayer.

she said:
stand. (i was.)
bleed. (i am.)
forget. (i have.)

they named her rust and sin.
they called her winterborn.
i called her sir. she knelt.
she cracked the siegehorns’ horn.

she fed the dying steeds.
she named them one by one.
she burnt all of their spines
beneath a rotting sun.

we drank the ink from flags.
we ate the borderlines.
we fed the crowns to crows
we wept in battle lines.

dull gape, like beryl stars,
spun like a compass dead.
she searched for Gods on fire,
who left the church in red.

our vows were carved in filth.
she wore a veil of teeth.
i wore the wound she gave
and nothing else beneath.
a love poem, oddly enough
Noor Feb 2015
Red
I stand inviaible in the road.
Frozen in place.
Frozen in thought.
I have misplaced all sounds.

Soldiers pull their bleeding brother out an RG-33 vehicle
in a flowing current of hands and fingers.
gentle, urgent
They hand him off to a swarm of medics then collapse into a grieving cloud of cigarette smoke

The pants and boots—especially the boots—are coated thick with blood
so fresh, so bright
My mind defrosts, gathers a voice to shatter the silence
What a beautiful color
Noor Mar 11
Who is the man weilding my gun
when time stops and holds its breath?
Cold hate runs in his veins—
steady, unflinching death.

Engines roar, radios chatter—
Silent! Vision, sharp and thin.
All existence is ending
the threat closing in.

Thumb pushes the safety—
click
Center mass. Steady. Hold breath.
Squeeze.

Who wore my skin?
Foe? Friend? Truly me?
Will I ever see him again—
Bold stranger, powerful-- fear free?
Tat Jan 16
Grief enfolds her shoulders
and her eyes look down
at all of those soldiers
under the ground.

Her thoughts fly
to the shadows around
who softly pass by
and frost all the sounds.

Rows of flowers will bloom
in the yellow-blue colours,
feel the silence and gloom.
Will she ever recover?

Says whatever she wants,
looks in eyes through the picture,
has no hope for response,
prays as said in the scripture.

She'll come later, bring some sweet.
How could she accept - this is it,
nothing left to complete?

How can her heart beat, how?
She is left with a vow,
who will love her from now?

An indifferent look at the stone,
all next minutes unknown.
Will she be all alone?

No more silly jokes again.
Sadness bowed her head.
All his deeds are not vain.

Rows of flags wave her grief,
truth is hardest belief
which you've got to achieve.

Unfortunately, pits are still empty
waiting.

She quietly reads words on bands,
stands.

She will say about devotion,
implosion.

She talks but he will not talk back.
Fact.

He lies with his brothers,
she'll live with some other,
A life is a moment,
it's not her atonement,
she isn't that weak,
just fatigue.
--

Ukrainian:
Журба за плечі обійма
і погляд опустився.
Прийшла в життя її зима,
немов кошмар явився.

Думки летять її туди,
де тихо ходять тіні
і від замерзлої води
проступить білий іній.

Ряди квіток цвітуть завжди
у жовто-синій гамі,
прийдеш помовчати сюди,
під цими прапорами.

Кажи що хочеш і дивись
в ці очі крізь світлину,
за спокій тихо помолись,
надійся на спочинок.

Ще прийдеш потім, принесеш
солодкого й смачного.
Як прийняти, що це вже все
і не вернеш нічого?

Як серцю далі битись, як?
скажіть їй хтось як жити.
Чи зможе хтось її ще так,
так сильно полюбити?

Чи засміється ще вона
від радості єднання?
Байдужий погляд, бо одна
в тяжких переживаннях.

Не скаже більше він, на жаль,
своїх невдалих жартів,
схилила голову печаль -
вона тепер на варті.

Ряди за обрій прапорів,
що майорять від туги,
розкажуть істину без слів
про болі, про наруги.

Пустують ями ще, на жаль,
чекають побратимів,
яких віддати мають нам -
ми віримо - живими.

Слова типові на стрічках
вона читає тихо,
побачити б в отих словах
для цього болю вихід.

Сказала б ще раз про любов
і як його чекала,
та думка холодила кров:
вона цю долю знала.

Ще поговориш ти, та він
вже більше не озветься,
востаннє зробиш ти уклін
розірваному серцю.

Він не один лежить,
вона ж одна піде додому.
І день як мить,
і рік як мить,
життя як мить,
лиш втома.
Rubianne Foster Dec 2024
Daddy please! Stay with me!
Don't fight in that war; we're already free!
They don't want you there, but I need you here.

Father, how many years has it been? Twenty?
Was losing the war worth losing me?
You didn't stay there, but you never came here.
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