44 DROPS OF BLOOD
by Coui Kim MinSu JA
Silence has consumed my lonesome soul
Beneath the sheets of my darkest fall
I broke my armor, my helmet and my sword
I lost the battle after I gave my all.
These hostile MOROns speak the language of war
Treachery is their dialect, how nasty they are!
They house the villains, they feed the crooks
Yet they always call their god, every time they shoot.
I lost my sight though not am I blind,
Revenge is the light, the only light i find
My wrath and my curse are constantly roaring
Within my heart I can no longer contain.
With these 44 drops of blood I solemnly swear
Doom are these wicked, for gone are my fears
Now, I raise this peaceful banner and flip it up RED
Cause I thirst and hunger for all of their HEADS.
Copyright © Jasper Abcede | Year Posted 2015
She's highly sophisticated and full of undefiled wisdom
Yet a crowned Duchess in a paradise kingdom
Quite a beautiful angel flying with black wings
Covered in gold jewelry and precious things
She dresses like the women of ancient Egyptian class
Her wealth is generous and her money grows like grass
She loves orange scented candles with dark room flame
She rules thirty legions of soldiers and Bune is her name
Her comely warrior voice can wake and relocate the dead
Her armies of soldiers gather around the cemetery
She is brave and deserves a princessly crown on her head
Her facility of speech and flair for words is legendary
A beautiful queen to be treated with respect and honor
Instead of blasphemy,wanton abuse and fictional horror
Copyright © Bill Kim | Year Posted 2013
I will lead you from battle,
bloodied and weary
Shivering in your new form of Being
Do not be afraid, Warrior,
You shall not waiver, you shall rise
in Glory, in Flame
Relinquish your Sword through the
Heart of the Gate
I will be your Guide,
I am your Will, your Right
Enter the Halls, sit within the Circle
We welcome you Home
in the Halls of Valhalla
Copyright © Lauryn Jean | Year Posted 2013
As I woke on Xmas morn, all was quite still,
my breath on the window, crystallized in the chill.
With the Soldiers so far away, many did feel,
the distance had made the war seem surreal.
The war they are fighting, I fear may have no end,
the fanatics that feed it, do not understand.
The Human race is meant to be free,
to make choices and have dreams, for others to see.
Their warped sense of values is not in the Qu ran,
Muhammad's (PBUH) teachings are not kill, then run.
He had many wives whom he honored quite freely,
the love he felt for them all was as Thaira (pure), as a lily.
The fight he tried to teach, this war of Jihad,
is the fight of the good, versus the bad.
Is, meant to be fought inside of each man.
Within his head, not in a desert, in a far off land.
My prayer for this Christmas for all to join hands,
No matter the religion, no matter the clans.
May the peace we all want be within our grasp,
may this fight on terror, and within be won at last.
Thank You God, Yahweh, Buddha, Allah, I say this with reverence,
Call Him Jesus or Krishna, whatever your preference.
Copyright © Kathleen McQuillen | Year Posted 2015
I have no home, no fatherland,
I am a soldier with no weapons,
No worldly goods can tie me down,
My paths lead me into distances grey.
Trenches are my bed,
The starry skies of the universe
Will cover me when nights are cold.
I shall write invisible letters
On clouds of cigarette smoke
And remember times full of grace
When groves were awakening in spring;
Only memories remain there,
The tranquility of souls will not decay.
Bitter thoughts have built barriers,
Fields will bleed in spasms -
A safe haven for a hero of the fatherland.
Copyright © Rinaldo DiRicchardi | Year Posted 2012
The priest doctor said
I ain't never getting well
That my cursed soul
was going straight to hell
If you knew the things I did,
would you forbear to tell
Be too afraid I'd taint your soul
if we shared the same cell
Killing is my profession,
and I do it rather well
Was trained on a bloody battlefield,
you best believe war is hell
If you knew the secrets they kept,
to citizens they never do tell
War criminals make the best politicians,
never seen one toss their own self in a cell
Priest doctor will you do it,
I heard you perform exorcisms well
Seems like following orders
is gonna march me right into hell
Now that you know the gist of my story,
leave nothing out, should you be compelled to tell
Withholding pertinent, grave testimony
will bury your betrayal in a rotting, earthen cell
Copyright © Freddie Robinson Jr. | Year Posted 2017