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Memento Mori
I lost myself today,
Walking down that same old road to liberation
Lost myself while looking for myself.
Where did I go?
Watching myself from far away, I think to myself,
"Have I been traveling down an abandoned road, or running on a treadmill,
Never getting any closer to my goals?"
Watching myself pass myself, I witnessed myself cry out,
And, slowly, fall to the ground.
There, I watched myself die.
Died on the outside, looking into nothingness.
Nunc lento sonitu dicunt
Morieris.
In pace requiescat.
That Old Lie
The trenches are living graves
Hungry for your corpse
Thirsting for your blood
They want it more than those showering you in bullets.
Remember that old lie:
Dulce et decorum set pro patria mori.
Sing it aloud as you march through the jungle
Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori!
Sing it, guided by the melody of the bullets
Screaming, whining, exploding!
DULCE ET DECORUM EST PRO PATRIA MORI!
freedom?
Isolated stand I
Isolated I stand
Amongst the morning fog, dewdrops sparkling
On long green grass
Here, I hear no music
No sirens, no bullets, no dying cries of dying street gang members,
Spanish spoken rapidly, hysterically.
There are new melodies here
Cicadas, cattle, the distant sound of a rooster's call.
Liberated, am I?
Liberated I am.
Is this freedom?
Freedom, this is.
 Jew-bacca · Sun Oct 07, 2007 @ 10:55am · 0 Comments |
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