Submit Your Poems
Get Your Premium Membership

Christian War Poems | Christian Poems About War

These Christian War poems are examples of Christian poems about War. These are the best examples of Christian War poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

If you don't find the poem you want here, try our incredible, super duper, all-knowing, advanced poem search engine.

Details | Quatrain | |

The little soldier boy

His daddy is fighting in Iraq.
His mommy is fighting tears.
His brother is fighting death.
He is fighting his desolation and fears.

Friends are but a dream
and companions are an illusion.
School is a concentration camp,
but he stands, though alone, in the midst of confusion.

His training school is loneliness.
His milestones are fears, thrust in lies.
His only weapon is faith
and his bullets are soft "hallelujah" cries.

Strength left his fragile body
and he lost the fight in life so coy,
yet on his knees he conquered agony
and I call him the little soldier boy.


Details | Romanticism | |

His Beauty Revealed on Christmas Day

As the snow falls around me, I marvel at God’s wholesome and worthy entity. The Lord, on his special day, has given me a gift so precious and special; He has opened my eyes to his wondrous glory. The Lord above all has allowed me to see the beauty in the smallest of things: The stars and moon at night, and the clouds and sun by day; The little trickles of freezing cold, yet clean, fresh, clear water Running down the mountainsides, quenching my insatiable thirst; The trees in all their grandeur, That provide my warmth when I gather their branches; The leaves and pine needles at my feet, Providing soft beds for me and all the forest creatures. Best of all of these, however, is the snow. The beautiful snow in which no two snowflakes are the same. The same biting cold, yet strangely comforting and fulfilling snow, In which brings forth light on the darkest of days. I must thank the all-loving God, who has bestowed upon me this glorious gift. Me, a pathetic excuse for a soldier who has run away From the sight of bloodshed because I cannot stand to fight another friend. Me, a coward who is now running from the law, And living solely in the forest for fear of being caught and hanged. Me, a God-believing man who has sinned greatly. But I have repented. I have asked God for forgiveness of my sins on Christmas Eve night, And He has replied by giving me snow on Christmas morning, showing me that I am not alone, and that I should not be afraid. And, by His grace, when all I have been seeing was darkness and despair, He opened me up to allow me to see the beauty and light in all his creation. “I praise You, oh glorious God, for giving me this most wonderful gift! I thank You for forgiving me, a sinner, of all my wrongdoings, and for giving me this awe-inspiring gift, for which I have done nothing to deserve! I exalt you on high, oh Lord, for all that you have done and given me, and will do for me and give me! I will love and praise you always! Amen.”


Details | Free verse | |

War Mentality

They come from a different era
where patriotism is a just cause
they would fight for the true blue
never mind who was right or wrong

they stood staunch and egos proud
their chest out, backs straight and chins up
they come from an old style of thinking
I fight today as my father and grandfather did too.

fighting for an eye for an eye tooth for a tooth
I will die to serve my country even if its a lie
if you try to invade our land
we will come and conquer you

we are defenders of the truth
but the old timers forget
and the young ones have a narrow point of view
there was a time when the immigrants were Irish, Italians and jews

racism was rampant and that hasn't changed
Christians today still preach
'Jesus is savior they say repent your evil ways
pushing their rhetoric just like the roman empire did

amazingly America seems to be doing the same
history seems to repeat itself time and time again
war, religion, oil and what we perceive  as freedom
we invade again and again and call it defending democracy

yet the intelligence comes from spies and other governments
because they have shared interests in different types of policy
they all carefully choose their words
because one slip of the lip could trigger war as it has happened before

todays war on terrorism is a campaign designed  to instill pain 
and un-trust to drain our resources from us 
And our leader claimed up front this is not a religious war
yet he paraphrases from the bible we'll get those evil doers

you see bush fooled our religious leaders too.
he used their belief in Jesus he tricked 'em all just to get their vote
he claims he's a born again Christian and this Christians embraced him holly
but then one day bush spoke to Jesus and asked what to do with Iraq

Jesus responded Invade that country
Now dont get me wrong Jesus was not about war 
he taught of peace, love and compassion
however his message has been twisted and turned over time 

and history shows the hands of Christian religious leaders are always bloody
because they twist the truth to control dictatorship is always the goal
Bush had been plaining war before a judge handed him the seat
on his first day he signed a bill into law prevent any criminal charges against him



Details | Rhyme | |

We Salute Our Veterans This Memorial Day


We salute every soldier who’s served this great nation. And offer a heart of thanks and appreciation! We salute each member of our armed forces. And are thankful for their efforts and resources! We salute the many who protect our borders too. We’d be in trouble… If not for people like YOU! We salute every son and daughter lost in a war. YOU are what serving this country is meant for! We salute the officers who’ve guided our women and men. Our prayers are with you! And our love from within! We salute our veterans! Wherever they may be! Those who served on land, air and sea! Offering prayer to the Lord is our belief… That he will guide our Commander-in-Chief! As we observe Memorial Day this year… Let’s offer our soldiers love, hope and cheer! May God bless them in all they endeavor And his peace be with them today and forever!! By Jim Pemberton


Details | Imagism | |

SHAPE SHIFTER

SHAPE SHIFTER
-------------------
Whiter than the bright
Light at the dawn of the day
Like an angel I fly
... High across the skies

A giver of life where I can
Amidst the dying bands
God's healing hand
To suture broken lands

Nobility fluorishes as 
I furiously and faithfully fly
Throughout terrestrial turf
Adhering my hierarchy's call

Not long before dusk
Sets and soon befalls me
Then my deific identity
Rises rapid to fall 
As a flag fully masted
Once the day ascends
Decorating my alter
As its ego impends

Reams of robust ravens 
Hover atop my haven's roof
As eery emblems exposing
My man in living proof
His character concealed
Behind his closed corridors

Capricious components conflict
Like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde
One way one day, then the 
Succeeding day someone 
Separate abides

Like Paul, wrestling knowing
The good I want and aspire to do
Yet like Peter live a lie
With depthened knowledge of truth

Loudly speak godly resistance
To demonic temptations
Yet quietly play in persistance
With their tasteful sensations

Real revelations revealed as
I trail through the night
Crying creeks and confessing
Raising rage to the light

Clearer, vivid visions unveil
What my mirrors masked
Revealing the vibrant vase
That was shattered like glass

The total truth ALAS!!!!
Has told its tragic tale
Of daytime's white angel
Who by night demon fell

No longer mimic the virgin
Who within was a harlot
No longer wear white robes
With others raided in scarlet

Transformation's tough touching
Totality's taken its course
Then tapes the truthful shape
My soul will seal and endorse

~Poetra Jah~


Details | Verse | |

Home of the Slaves

Land of the free
Home of the slaves
The blood, sweat and tears of my ancestors resonate
Amongst the soil where they were slain
I’m hearing their struggle
I’m feeling their pain
I can’t imagine being forced to part from my family
All for massa’s gain
So I pay homage to those who promoted change

People like every slave who tried to escape
Nat Turner, Ms Carlotta, Harriet Tubman
And the safe houses who were in accord
And peg leg Joe with his song
Follow the drinking gourd.

People like, the disregarded - those thrown overboard
And who was dismissed and defamed
The ones who were stripped of their soul, their pride, their names

The list could go on  
The full will never be told
So I pay homage to others who were bold
Like John Brown, The Freedom Riders, Sojourner Truth
Ida B Wells, Phyllis Wheatley, Maya Angelou, 
Langston Hughes and Charles Drew

George Washington Carver, Ruby Bridges
Booker T Washington and Mary McCleod Bethune
Charles Houston, Ralph Bunche, Fredrick Douglass
WEB Dubois, Paul Robeson, Ralph Abernathy
Benjamin Banneker, Marcus Garvey and Crispus Attucks
Who’s death by the way
Symbolized the American lie
You cant declare the rights of all men
While the people of African decent rights get denied
But still we rise

Thanks to Dr Martin Luther King, Malcolm X, 
The Black Panthers, the Buffalo Soldiers and Tuskegee Airmen
None who were showed any love
Yeah it’s an uphill battle, 
But obviously greatness can be done.

We can rise above this stigma 
That blacks are lazy and daunting
That our worth is null and void 
And in essence minus nothing
And of all the names mentioned 
And the greatness of their successes
No one has been able to erase the evil transgressions of a racist mind
And once you have experienced just a taste of it
It changes your perception of time
The oppression beats like the drum on the chariot
Of when it was finally time to escape to freedom
It's mine


Details | Monoku | |

FINALLY, WE WON

FINALLY, WE WON evil flaming arrows wail-- spirits in shields of faith ©O. E. Guillermo 5:55 pm; November 30, 2014


Details | Lyric | |

I don't want to fight

I don’t want to fight

I’ve been here just a few long days
I’ve still a year to go
There’s not too much to do out here
The days, they pass so slow
And lord, it gets so blooming warm
It’s not the place to be
If one’s looking for a comfort zone
And sweet tranquillity.

The Cong, they send their missiles in
The guns they roar so loud
They hate our guts, behind that wire
They’re fighters, and they’re proud
These folk, they want to keep their land
And I guess they’ve got their rights
I don’t know what we’re trying to win
But I don’t want to fight.

Oh, I don’t care about Vietnam
I really, truly do not give a damn
I just want to go back home
And be just who I am.

Three hundred and sixty days to go
I think I’ll die out here
If net through this fighting thing
Maybe, I’ll die of fear
I have a wife and two sweet kids
The baby I’ve not seen
But here I am in Vietnam
All dressed in jungle green


Details | Ballad | |

The Mirror of Abaddon

Fourteen-thousand years ago, a devil played a game
In his garden with an angel whom I shall not name.
The angel won or so he thought, “Now you must pay what’s due”
I’ll take your mirr’, your favorite one,  and break the thing in two.

The mirror was a magic one of evil dark and black
“The beauty of a perfect world, now what’s the fun in that?
This one’s far better, it twist, it pulls it shrinks before my eyes.
Instead of showing true reflections, this one shows me lies”

“I’ll tell you what, you won it fair, it’s yours but let’s do more;
I’ll help you break it here and now and it will be no more.”
The angel smashed it into two, his hammer in his hand.
“But why stop there?”, the devil said and smashed it into sand

The Devil grinned, “Good work my friend. See, I don’t even care”
He scooped a handful of the dust and blew it in the air.
Among the people of the earth, the grains of mirror blew.
The angel warned them “Close your eyes!” and blew his trumpet too

“What gift is this?” some people thought, Eve’s lesson was not learned.
and soon awoke with crusty eyes that itched and teared and burned.
“I see it now!” the faithless said “I am no longer blind!”
“Don’t be cross” the devil said, "Their eyes see now like mine".

Some were seized with a panicked fear, “The enemy is nigh!”, 
and with cruel rocks marched on their neighbors and sentenced them to die.
Others were charmed by shiny stones “Supplies are running out!”
The simple gifts that God had given were left to lay about.

Some saw themselves with grandeur high “I’ll wear this mighty crown”, 
I’ll be the King, you be the serf, and bow when I’m around.
The other ones yoked to the plow, “These types aren’t men at all”.
I’ll tolerate your presence if you're at my beck-and -call.

Of arrogance and fear and greed the mighty nations grew.
And men would starve and wars would rage for these unfaithful few.
So hear me now you righteous ones whom the devils would refuse:
In the game of life Good always wins, but bad will never lose.


Details | Free verse | |

A God Thing

Fairhair’s youngest son the good, for peace trickery repaid, by hawk upon the knee            Norse blood raised an English king, hid from the bloody axe until his reign                           A Christian in a pagan scene A God Thing in a Frost Thing                                              old ways die hard drunken jarls twelve leaping things hot yule-beer,                                boiling horse flesh He signs the cup a cross to bear in heathen affair                                  Raven-feast a king tries to bring his people the Hope of the New Living Thing                 Pushing back the fires of bloody axe, he fought Eric’s sons blue-toothed Danes               Annihilator of all other Skalds recounts Haakon's Song his good night                        Outnumber six to one by Danes all weapons pointed, at the golden helmet                          though mocking refrains now hidden by poet's hat                                                        thrust on through you shall find Quernbiter,                                                              cutting runes and the Norse king, putting to flight the Danish plight                                   whirling recoil of the fleeing Erikson a lonely arrow finds Haakon's heart                             upon the flat rock lay slain                                                                                     though the Dark-wolf again eats the land                                                                        a Christian king has the hope of a God thing                                                         *                     *                                             Notes -Hákonarmál is a skaldic poem,EARLY KINGS OF NORWAY by Thomas Carlyle,THE THING SMALL LOCAL COUNTRYSIDE THING --Thing (assembly)


Details | Rhyme | |

The Bourgeois and the Spinning Wheel

In a room filled with a solitary red hue
The bourgeois spins a wheel
With no destination, nor need
She will spin until her brittle Hands bleed
Just to satisfy her ennui and artifice
But she does not see - the rien I see
The monster approaching her empty dreams

Spinning still - she does not know
The insomniac rose will begin to grow
The thorn of clandestine and ebony
Ostracized for he began to realize
What lies in nonsense is decadence
Which sparks interest
Who's lover is a dadaist
But his story is over now
As Seth lead the way
A poet dies in dismay

The thorn as she spun penetrated
A distraction and a lack of action
She knew the temptation for she so loved the sensation
Of crass, rebellious - ways 
The thought laid it's seed
In her Gaulish mind it breeds
She has no other need and no regrets
So she proceeds and the smile lets
With full intention and desire
Caring none of her fate that will transpire 
She presses her finger on the thorn 
So now she bleeds knowingly
she did not recede


Details | Free verse | |

Awakening

Are we awake or are we still sleeping?
Blind to the hurt, and deaf to the weeping.
Ashamed of religion and supportive of the new,
Aware of the lies and hidden from what’s true. 

Worship the evil and turn away the pure,
Developing disease with an unknown cure.
Starving the poor and overfeeding the wealthy.
Killing the sick and drugging the healthy. 

Going to war for some kind of power,
Building tall structures over all types of flower.
Cutting the trees and polluting the air,
All out of greed, with no sort of care. 

Turning us against our own, 
And help from up above.
Making us beings of hate,
Instead of ones of love. 

Demonizing the mystic,
Criticizing the wise.
Making our own family members,
Into people that we despise.

Awaken to the torment, 
Be aware of all the pain. 
Those who are misleading,
And claiming that we are insane.


Details | Free verse | |

The New God

You're a voyeur at best!
Your vampiric heart beats out of your chest
Ready to consume the final climax
I know who you are - when the lyrics fail to resemble
Letting your poison drip straight from your lips
Portraying, entertaining the image of sex's delusion
You know only rape - manifestation of hate
Lack of the fruit of the beauty of a human mind
Depths you'll never penetrate!

She was only a doll - type of a lost father's adore
Impaled into a desperate whore
Shamefully out of broken safety's  choice 
She bore embryogenesis of morose
May your rusty blades caress as they please

So confront the masses with the halt of embryogenesis
Let the worship of machines be
Leg them construct us cell to cell
Nature's just in the way
Of our race of perfectly engineered machines!
The burden of conception
Surrenders to the will of
The New God
   


Details | Blank verse | |

The Irony of the Red Smiling Cyclops

It appeared on the doorpost as a Cyclops' smiley face
 For some Cyclops WhatsApp icon, but red-themed application
 Yes gruesome red, in contrast to the expectation
 You would get from a smiley face, even for a Cyclops.
 It quizzed my curiosity and I dug further on Google’s interface. 

It appeared on the search page as the queen Isis,
 Long told in Hieroglyphics, Cyrillic and Roman alphabet,
 Patroness, mother, queen, blessings with love met,
 But unlike these grim Arabic script in an ominous logo,
 And tales of death, pain littered with deeper crises
 
It told of “nuun”, 14th letter of a blessed script
 In which many beautiful and wise thoughts found life,
 A letter which told of blessing and not of strife
 Being in a position multiple of seven, a number blessed
 By God Himself when he Earth and Heaven in 7 breaths whipped
 
It told of the Magen David, a shining star, which should be a good thing
 Only that it brings memories of gaunt bodies piled in trucks
 And human experimentation, and as history at our door knocks
 And Isis or Isil opens to let in what we dread most
 “Nuun” is stuck in my iris with pain and scary sting. 

For I have seen the blank stare of heads painting in red drips the pickets
 And Leonidas’ 300-style gore re-enacted in modern city streets
 As heads are divorced from bodies and all around are scared heartbeats
 For even bloodied child clothes cover head-less bodies,
 As Christians are beheaded like one would roast crickets. 

It brings back memories of my ancestors up in the Samba regions,
 Fleeing the harsh choice given to them by the jihadists:
 To adorn the village picket or join the cause of the Islamist,
 Forced to create a third choice, which was to leave their homes,
 Friends and family to pseudo-Islam or lurid lethal lesions. 

Is it that time again for Iraqi Christians?
 Shall the world once again watch the Red Indians’,Tutsis’, and Jews’
 Story take gruesome form and hack through human sinews?
 How many litres of innocent blood, and kilogrammes of hacked Christian flesh
 Are needed to realise the vanity in the life of Homo sapiens? 

(c) Nyonglema


Details | Bio | |

The 4th Branch

The voice of racism preaching the 
gospel is devilish a fake church 
called the Prophet Muhammad a 
terrorist forgetting God is not 
religion but a spiritual bond and 
Jesus is the most quoted profit in 
the Koran they bombed innocent 
people trying to murder sudaam 
when you gave him those chemical 
weapons to go to war with Iran this 
is the information that they hold 
back from Peter Jennings cuz 
condalisa rice is just the New Age 
Sally Hemings I break it down with 
critical language and spiritual 
anguish the Judas to hang with the 
guilt of betraing Christ you 
murdered his religion and painted 
and white translated in 
psychologically tainted philosophy 
the conservative political right wing 
ideology glued together sloppily the 
blasphemy of a nation got my bakk 
to the wall cuz I'm facing 
assassination Guantanamo Bay 
federal incarceration how could this 
be the land of the free home of the 
brave indigenous Holocaust and the 
home of the slaves corporate 
America dancing offbeat to the 
rhythm you really think this country 
never sponsored terrorism human 
rights violations we continue the 
saga El Salvador in the contras of 
Nicaragua and on top of that you 
still want to take me to prison just 
cause I won't trade Humanity for 
patriotism? ,immortal


Details | Free verse | |

After The War

A life that the many once lived,
Where their freedom was deprived.
A war that those in power contrived,
Where only a few have survived.

How can those who remain,
Forget all the trauma and pain.
For those left, how can one explain
That serenity, no one can now obtain.

How can their lives ever start a new
And enjoy the peace that they are due,
When even in sleep the nightmares grew.
Gone are the happy days they once knew.

The war may have very well ended.
The casualties may have been unintended;
Yet there was no mercy that was extended
By those whose conscience had been bended.

The blood of those lives that were taken,
The lives of those remain that were shaken;
To a past of tragedy they have been forsaken,
Yet their hopes and faith had been awaken.


Details | Rhyme | |

REVOLUTION IN TOGO

NEWS Item AP: TOGO
LOME – In an effort to topple a government set up to end a 24 year dictatorship rebellious army troops seized the state broadcasting station yesterday, then left the building but returned several hours later and recaptured it. Up to six people died in the clashes. The rebels forced a broadcaster to report demands that the prime minister Joseph Koffigoh resign and dissolve the high council set up to oversee the transition from military rule to democracy.


Revolution in Togo

I was lying on my lawn chair on a sunny summer day
With a dozen pack of Heineken and there I planned to stay
My wife came screaming from the house, most upset I must say
She knew there was trouble brewing, that I’d have to go away

In her hand she had the newspaper, waved it wildly in my face
I looked quickly at the headline and my heart began to race
What, I cried, a revolution? That could not be the case!
A revolution out in Togo? But we all came from that place!

“That’s impossible” I shouted, it is such a peaceful place
A revolution out in Togo? What a terrible disgrace!
I wondered what was brewing, what the problem there could be
My imagination then took over and the rest is history

I could see the picture clearly, I could see it all come down
It was all about the money, and the purse strings of the town
John Mulroy’d been in opposition for two terms maybe three
He was sick of watching the corruption and all the bribery

The foreigners came from Makaroff and San Clara and took hold
Taking all the jobs and contracts, lined their pockets with our gold
Johns support from Runnymede and Kamsack were stuck outside
Getting menial jobs and thinking they’d been taken for a ride

Rollie Hamel was Johns inside man, he was working for the town
Telling John what was going on and what was coming down
John was now determined to stop the debauchery 
And raise himself an army to set the people free

He got the Nabe boys and the Burbacks and a couple of their friends 
To mount an armed insurrection and bring this to an end
They quickly took the broadcast station in the back of Richies’ store
Within two hours the regular army came crashing through the door

What a standoff as they stared each other down with dirty looks
Talking about the law and the dubious entries in the village books
It was turning ugly for no one was backing down
But Richie’s store was also the only liquor store in town

In the meantime I had panicked with a sense of responsibility 
For there are times when a man must fight to protect his dignity
I sold my house and all my toys to buy supplies and guns
To try and save the homeland from the invading Huns

I arrived in Togo just in time to get to Richies’ store
And found a bunch of bodies lying passed out on the floor
What happened? I cried, with dread to anyone that could hear
John Mulroy said, with groggy head, t’was the best party of the year

“We came down last night to have a beer and watch the hockey game 
Drank a too much and passed out on the floor here, what a shame
We drank up all the whiskey, the whole supply in town
Then we finished off the moonshine as the third period wound down”

I said “What happened to the revolution going on here at home?” 
He looked at my newspaper article and said “No, that says in Lome”
Lome I said, confused now, where the hell is Lome?
He said that’s in a place called Togo, I said well…. that is my home…..?

He said “No you idiot, that’s not here, it’s an African country  
Everybody’s heard about it”, I thought “Yeah, everyone but me”
I said “Damn it, I’ve got loads of equipment, what can I do with it?”
He said “Sell it I guess, to tell the truth I don’t really give a shit”

So, I have two dozen crossbows, two hundred arrows and 3 Willis jeeps
I came fully prepared to fight the war, prepared to play for keeps
I have enough stores and weapons so any revolution I can dowse
I’m trying hard to sell it now so I can buy a house


Details | I do not know? | |

Blasphemy

Blasphemy

The caustic tongues of the evangelists,
Across all creeds and faiths,
Seem as brittle as an old bone.

For they promise heaven and they spew forth threats of hell
While neglecting the words of that man who walked in Galilee

'let him who is without sin, cast the first stone'

the caustic tongues of the evangelists...

across all religions
new-age and the ones of old
baffle me even as I hear
a single simplistic sermon

for they really do, view us all
as blind imbeciles
scurrying around like faithless vermin


the caustic tongues of the evangelists...

wag on and dazzle us with visions of an eternal paradise
while here and now
their hypocrisy festers
within their earnest
well-meaning eyes...


'...dil mein hai khwaaish-e-hoor-o-jannat
aur zaahir mein shauk-e-ibaadat
bas hamen sheikh-ji aap jaise
allah-waalon se allah bachaaye...'


'...in your heart you desire the maidens of heaven
yet in the now you practice the rituals of piety
o' sheikh, may allah protect me
from the people of allah like yourself...'

is my tongue as caustic as the tongues I write about?
if so, then glad am I
for they shouldn't be the only ones
who preach and rant and continually shout

from their pulpits ever so high in the sky
from their hubris of comfort in possessing the 'truth'

from their 'knowing' that heaven or hell
awaits both the strong as well as the meek

while oblivious to the reeking foul smell
that encourages prejudice and hate
and visions not of peace
but of endless chants and prayers

which they, in their opium haze
rattle on and on
as they never seem to cease to speak

and though I’m sure that all this bile that I have spewed
will threaten
hurt
and offend

friend and
unfriend and
acquaintance alike

but...

take pity on me instead
for it'll surely be I
who'll burn eternally
impaled by a benevolent god
on a slightly warmer than normal day in hell

on a crude wooden spike.


Details | I do not know? | |

THE WAY WAR VETERANS SUFFER FOR OURS HARD WORK

I look and saw how much war veterans like me suffer when we come back from war,We don't have anyone to comfort us,the power is on the side of those that beat us down,I look and saw how much war veterans like me suffer with tears in ours and sadness on ours faces,We don't have anyone to comfort us,the power is on the side of those that beat us down,I look and saw how much war veterans like me suffer,where we should be treated right,we are treated wrong,we have no one to comfort us,the power is on the side of those that beat us down,I look and saw how much war veterans like me suffer,where we should be treated fairly we are treated unfairly,the power is on the side of those that beat us down,We don't have anyone to comfort us,I look and saw how much war veterans like me suffer,where we should be treated kind,we are treated unkind,the power is on the side of those that beat us down,We don't have anyone to comfort us,I still can see the tears of war veterans like me suffing from coming back from war,We don't have anyone to comfort us,the power is on the side of those that beat us down,I look and saw war veterans like me suffer,where we should be treated good we are treated badly,I still can see the tears of war veterans like me suffing who are still on this earth while ours conrades have paid the price and die for this country,We still don't have anyone to comfort us, the power is on the side of those that beat us down,I look and saw the country on 9/11 when the enemy came and bomb the USA,We was there to comfort the country and the people that lost love ones,the power was on the side of the military of the USA,We beat them down,so I ask this question????? Who are going to comfort us now,we are no longer soldiers but war veterans all mess up we was not born this way but got this way for fighting for ours country////// SSG Jack Thomas Kirt


Details | Couplet | |

No man's land a warpath not desired

Wrath of man works not of the righteous God                                                                    God will repay the wrath of a king the rod                                                                         You messengers of death be wise pacify it                                                                     no man's land before you lay in a ditch                                                                             This is not a war game or a trifling siege                                                                      you should think twice on a race to the sea                                                                    The heavy burdens of violence and strife                                                                           Whence come wars the friend of this world                                                                        consumed upon your own lusts you whorled                                                                 Where red worm twirls know what spirit you are of                                                       why should you die all men of war repent look above                                                         Warpath end of the war desolations are determined it will be                                          feathered fowl and beast filled flesh profits nothing you see                                                Your money your guns will not save your soul alive                                                            there is only one at the appointed time that will revive                                                      Seek peace and follow it with all men created                                                                    in the image of God ensue it peace emancipated                                                                The obstinate the way of peace they know not                                                                 unwise birdmen in their own snare they are caught                                                            Wars and rumors of wars looking for the day of no more wars                                            neither shall they learn war any more children beat their swords


Details | Couplet | |

A Trojan course

Winter comes to steal all the color                                                                                   There is a plan yet to discover                   						                   As The cold begins to raid the night                                                                         The sun withdraws its warming light                                                                           The fruit more colorful, so also the turning leaves                                                    As the frost attacks these, Color hides in root and seed                                              Winter seems to have the upper hand                                                                        As leaves and fruit take a last stand                                                                          They fall to the ground withered and brown                                                           The treasure of color buried in the cold ground                                                        As winter celebrates the death of life, It is a small sacrifice                                      For the army of color is now hidden and ready to fight


Details | Epic | |

Demon Below - Part One

Adam, his moves are like no other,
thank you for taking the knife out of my back
a dagger I ignored,
until the odor of hate kept pushing the blade deeper than before
Adam, Dear, don't think less of me,
since I will voice my vicious words once more
the way the stranger slicked and slithered in a worm like movement
I was hooked, I admit, biting the apple for the second time
I will no longer bite my tongue,
watch as I hand over the dull knife back to this dark lonely shadow

Blind under the ungaurded tree, a quick voice drew me in
the way it came at me, like a friend holding hands, covering my back,
a paradise in his own mind, a moat of quicksand, my foot sunk in

Offering his game,
a stench I ignored, building friendships, trusting the new employee
I don't run with the sheep,
must I be punished for accepting his bouquet of daisies
Adam, I can't take this, the way he slanders, our name
must I make a fool, from he who's been biten by fools before
I don't wish to go down this road, but I have no choice
these sneaky attacks, are the weakest form of sinning
in a way I kind of feel sad, and wish he bathe his words in chlorine
a reptile, like chameleon, I did not see this one coming.
The only theft that took place, was when the stranger took my friendship
and shook the Devil's hand, in front of me, laughing at the notion
of never having my back, a slap in the face, for luring him my way
Adam, you are my man, you are tall,
like a Lady I will step back and let you take care of it all...

By Poet - Eve


Details | Rhyme | |

Armageddon

Armageddon, the prophets wrote 
about it and Christ spoke of it. These
events must take place. 

As the darkness unleashes, the beast
will come to do what he pleases and
ruthless wars will arise. Nations will betray
one another like Judas. Evil will have domination
over all nations of the earth. The ground will rumble
and every building will crumble. Volcanoes will erupt,
earthquake and hurricanes will tear the world apart. 
Armageddon will come and the world will end