Dust in Bloom

Dust in bloom and through the gloom.

The raging wars are seen through iron eyes.

Lambent, the armored knight, and the fire in the skies.

They were forged from hell and have a future left to kill.

I am mourning the loss, the innocence of blood spilled.

Forefathers of doom, darker days, I say soon!

They bleed through open wounds, death ere long.

They are fighting their wars in foreign lands.

Teutonic knights crusade, clenching their fists.

Kings and Queens alike; they'll seize your life.

The young, the old, the innocent strife

You gain nothing when the past is revised.

Disposable souls, marching towards their doom.

The pestiferous scent of warfare, for the men, are the damned.

Young boys dying, their blood marinates the foreign sands.

The rulers of man, united, 'They' stand.

With their feet pressed upon our proverbial throats.

Nothing more than a sea of fleas, do you not understand?

Dreadful is the flight, a murder of crow.

Bloody is the battlefield, and families scorned.

Time witnesses the tears of mothers mourned.

Religion, land, or division, the world is adrift.

There is no glory in war, for even the victors lament their dead.

Through the ashes of strife, the living does sift.

Dust in bloom, I can see through the gloom.

Lay down your blades, for we fight no more,

For the wicked and wealthy, never do they see the gore.

Disposable are their heroes in numbers untold.

Mother Earth has had her fill; how much more can she endure?

As for me, I can say No More!