Circles
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The human cost of violence is often overlooked. This is what we do to eachother. Is this our nature, or is this just a hurdle to becoming better?
Forged in fire, born and bred
Like a lion in their heads
Open hand made fist by culture
Circles of violence upon well-worn treads
Prospering, only crows and vultures
Pick clean hesitant bones and falter
Glory and wine, tools of peacetime
Golden shovel; dig your graves by the altar
The thirsty rebel looks to the sky,
Shades his eyes from sunlight, dry
Vultures circling the once-green plain
Are waiting for them all to die
What's in a fight for the living to gain?
Glory, honor, protection in vain?
The bladesman's steel cleaves circles in heads
Circles of death, vengeance, and pain
Security by gunpoint paints the world red
Order and pestilence drilled into our heads
A propaganda spread by vultures
Controlling the reaper, profit from the dead
Copyright © Andrew Travis | Year Posted 2018
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