I hear a breath in the distance
I’ve heard it thrice before
Crying and endless chatter
Didn’t end the lore.
Forbearance is the hardest decree
When we didn’t settle the score.
We cleared the battlefield of the dead
But we didn’t see the whore.
He is the man that begun the battle
We call him ‘the starter of wars’
When angry souls meet in haste
He lands upon the shores.
He starts the war that ends nothing
A battle cry heard throughout the land
We like to say he’s subtle
But he never has a plan.
He is the destroyer of the planet
One nation “under God”
This liberty we hold in truth
That bears an angry rod.
Nothing ever comes of it
Nothing comes of death.
The weary may travel far
But the dead is what is left.
We begin with angry words
That soars to angry shouts
What is left of a broken nation
Is heartache, and doubts.
We call him ‘belief’
Because we have nothing left
Embers of what was once a nation
Now broken, and bereft.