Colin Mitchell Williams Poet Free verse

Bid Thy To Slaughter Child, To Slaughter

In the august acclamations of weaponry
befits this uniform adorned 
and in prideful boast our livery
of arsenal upon the enemy scorned

From this distant seat shall reap dead carapace
the automata's bullet indulges no refugee
to warrant such requital in fitting disgrace
the cowards of deaths technology

Bid thy to slaughter my child, to slaughtered be
in renditions dark battalions
and gather fragile limbs splatter splintered trophy
behest accolades pinned medallions

Touch pad the joy stick of war games
reload the unflinching trigger
machine gun of anonymous names
ply the graves of the unknown soldier

Set cause to profit and property
and in soulless regalia execute
this pestilent act to defile humanity
so reaped upon this bloody scythes repute

For this distant throne still bids fears menace
with guided missile acquits accountability
shall bare no witness to rueful penance
of cowards whelped by deaths technology

Bid thy to slaughter then my child, and to slaughtered be 
in viscous deliverance either of these
dream thee not of honor or bravery
but in nightmares blade this evil appease

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