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.

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