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My palms are growing wet
Sweat has covered my trigger
Night and day in enemies nest
Operating like battalions of mere singers.

I fight 21st century with 20th century bullet
Blood on my face, wounds yielding deeper
In shattered body my brethren in uniform rest
Unjust funding makes our defence wall weaker.

Father, I am in a wilderness fighting a shapeless war
No back ups, no one is watching out for our fall
Like we are dying for those who don't care about us
Our enemies are in golden armor while we ride on horse.

Mother, did the demise of my gun brothers makes the headlines?
I heard the 'next level' was lunched on that day
And my superiors disown us to dine at the front line
Well, don't cry yet, I'm still alive at least for today.  

Oh, my palms are wet and my hopes like a thread
My eyes shed more tears than the blood my gun sheds
We are too weak to keep pulling these triggers
Aso Rock, upgrade us now or take us home to our fathers.
Dedicated to the over 70 soldiers killed in northern Nigeria by Bokoharam Terrorists in November, 2018.
Outside Words Nov 2018
Under smoldering red desert skies
Earthquake-like tremors displace sand
And giant gears pulling wide treads give rise
To a towering, onyx colored machine of man.

A scientific prophecy once foretold
That the oceans and trees could be killed
And in its toxic love of black gold
Humanity granted this prophecy fulfilled.

It used to warm our bodies and minds
But now, our sun is something to fear
Our lives and colossal machines combine
And chances of survival remain unclear.

For military rule has exploited
Our natural will to fight and survive
They’ve usurped us and anointed
Themselves rulers of the inside.

What’s left of our once great society
Roams the Earth in onyx colored arcs
Scientists try to return Earth’s sobriety
As we wage war for oligarchs.

Terrorism between 3 arcs ensues
As each believes the one to solve
The problem of an Earth abused
Will become ruler by forceful resolve.

I've had ideas fleshed out for this one for a while. Finally got around to writing it!

© Outside Words
Lydeen Sep 2018
Patiently.

Waiting for your death.

Desperately.

Jumping as if you have wings.

Flying on the back of an angel.

Gracefully.

As if you're merely swimming.

Bravely.

Through a shattered window of reality.

At Peace.







But why are you still unknown?
Yeah so I wrote this a few months ago, but there's a picture of a man who lept to his death from the tower to escape the flames. Look up the falling man. The picture is absolutely chilling. He is speculated to be Johnathan Briley, but his remains were never definitively found. They were buried in the wreckage, and burned.
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