Snipers

Dust and blood on an iPod that plays,
Hole, for love of country, for love,
Of the scope on a fine bolt action M-40  rifle.
Cupid was a sniper, for love of Psyche.
Like the marksman in the minaret that shot,
Lance Corporal Miller in the face,
He will have a thousand virgins at his feet.
As Corporal Nick Ziolkowski loved to kill,
Having taken three mortals in one day,
Was a badge of honor he would proclaim,
Now he lives under that shining city on the hill.
The world loves it’s patient heros,
How gently they lay in wait, divinely,
Saving humanity    from it’s dark Eros.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2005

Poem

Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.

Please Login to post a comment

Be the first to comment on this poem. Encourage this poet.

Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace