Warpath
The time that set the teeth on edges
Clamped to grit the whip-cracked jaws,
Sprung the trap on mice and man,
Drove a stake and honed the claws
Of greed fatigue in Trojan wars.
The net sinks deep, it slowly dredges
Through the silt of basal bed,
No choice of kill, kill what you can
As cardboard fairground targets bled
A visual plasma of the dead.
Dumbly striking knell of dying
In the fields where culling gagged
With reek of pig swill and disease,
Hours slithered, daylight dragged
When toes were tagged and bodies bagged.
Midnight mass was nought but sighing,
Silence reigned when voices died
And fires flickered in the trees,
The road was raised and opened wide,
The eyes of heaven cracked and cried.
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