Read At Your Own Risk

Death threatens life by our own making,
the sanctity of which we have been foresaking.
Our nation; land of the free home of the brave.
Yet our warriors have became our indentured slave.

Patriotism is a crock of shit,
Those who return do so unfit.
War is the problem sure
Legalized murder on tour.

My boy wrote home the other day.
Saying the bulllets they flew every which way,
mortars exploded about my head.
I looked to my buddy, but he was dead

The endless massacre of mind and men,
governments  do it again and again.
It is done now for our retribution 
They cleared it by our constitution

Surely, I thank them for what they have done.
Ridding the evil from under the sun
Malevolence in earth it does abound
Bullets and explosions make a horrid sound

The other day my son had told to me,
"He was coming home forever free."
A town car pulled up in front of our house,
everything halted as silent as a mouse.

Out from the car stepped a captain and lieutenant.
My wife was thrilled, her joy was not repentant. 
Joyfilled both of us were there standing,
the captain spoke with his voice soft yet commanding.

They both had stood in front of me,
Hat in hand the captain said solemnly
,"On September fifth at two thirty one,
The field hospital at Kandahar was overrun."

My wife she panicked at the awful news.
Sorrow and pain crowded all my views.
Tears flowed from her eyes of green,
Her heartache was the worst I ever seen.

She crumbled into my arms for rest,
her tearfilled eyespressed into my chest.
Anger within me swelled for my boy,
remembering the times filled with joy.

Masses of bodies encompassing me,
death as far as my eye can see,
the light displays in the approaching dawn,
huddled bodies all putrid and wan

Mercy was not present for them,
their lives the bombs did suspend.
Flames surround the ashes of the dead.
True horror such I had not ever read.

Bodies upon graves endlessly pleading.
The war encroaching never receding.
Harrowed halls where worshippers pray,
littered with the faithful dead as they lay.

The catholic punishment may it now begin
For living thier lives of unending sin.
Shadows of mercy entertained them not,
for their lives of sin they receive their lot

Into each nature a little pain must fall,
pity the ignorant of true lifes call
For their pain it shall be great,
ignorance of truth seals their fate