Fire and Fuse
I strike a blow,
To prove that gods can bleed,
When pierced by an arrow,
Tipped with a poison concocted from imperialistic greed,
Not a gaping wound,
Yet left alone to fester,
A bomb left primed and fused,
To end this world's helter skelter,
Inciting the death of a nation,
And the birth of a new world,
Free from patriotic prostration and international incineration,
Hark the combustion heralds as our new flag unfurls,
The white flag of surrender awash with a dynasty's blood,
Poised aloft a skeletal flagpole,
A worthy tapestry to depict our lives in the marshes' mud,
Behold our new dawning as the Red Sun sets,
Abandon your nuclear thrones and ivory decrees,
For we have relinquished our positions as inborn pets,
And seek retribution against your hereditary disease,
My death will mean nothing,
My dismembered body remains resolute,
My severed head will continue preaching,
Of a world ruled by us, the broken, and destitute.
Copyright © Michael Zavaletta | Year Posted 2015
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