Post War II

Witness is vengeance,

     Drug me now in old age, Darken the imagination, Every night I'm reliving flashes of war before the infirmary, Lost faces fill the space between bullets grazing concrete & men who've become falling corpses, Mental affliction can't be quiet for a moment and let me drive my own point of view, perception menace won't tolerate solace as I watch citizens street walk a stutter to dance in nice clothes, wish I could bleach my own soul, a new memory so I could live...

     In nightmares I see resurrected Nazi soldiers walking towards me,  a pulsating heart of fire beating in their chest before wings of obsidian feathers behind a gas mask with crimson shades, realize then I can't remember the last time I was alone without the intoxication of fear, that I felt merely alive...

     We're the same, enemy lines disturbed long ago blur, a strange affliction is this imagination, post war dream semantics makes me desire to load up all gods in brass cartridges, an event their bullets fired at the world's funeral pyre I missed to smoke a last cigarette, Invested too much time into regrets, moments stolen by life like day of my own apocalypse before the world of wars twice sought my end in dreams streaming lucid before my waking eyes, can't find the shotgun in the front hall to take my life at night, too many spent on the battlefield killing in the name of...

     The burden of other people's crosses, not an illegitimate cause, Though we've long burned them down for other causes; greed, but I'm too old to reconfigure what they once told me, I was a living drone like the ones in flight over the middle east tonight, bearing white badges of peaceful surveillance as they drop napalm scars on citizens, they're flight masters say fuck international lay we're too transparent via ethereal projectiles we desire to fire at living beings for the sake of some justified security, I'm too old to take this any more!

     Pacify the youth, they're your apathetic legion testifying to their comfortable ignorance, allegiance only to celebrity-ism and sex in world all for sale as their fellow citizens are sold into a wake up call via tragedy only to overdose on sedatives in order to murder their awareness into a grave marked conscious: how do I fit in like the rest to be accepted but still get every selfish desire in a world of a morally dead monarchy that saw chivalry enslaved via the recommendation of culture to carpe diem's plea to appease a moment's lust.

    How should I abide the past in nightmares tonight on this earth when I'm ever so willing to die...

In earnest anticipation of,