The Spoils of War...
the true definition of greed.
The spoils of war,
Do you know what they are?
I've seen them up close,
Time and time before.
Broken and battered,
The thousand yard stare…
Men that leave for war,
Returning home, but never really here.
Screaming, Shouting, Dying;
The memories too real to deny.
Wondering, always wondering
"My buddies died. Why…
Oh why, didn't I??"
Once we believed in something,
In God, In Country, In Man…
The hells that we faced alone,
Made our belief in anything,
Destroyed…
Bereft…
Gone.
All that mattered,
When the metal met the meat…
Was Battle covering Battle,
Each other's six,
Hoping not to suffer defeat.
Loss is the spoil of war.
Mind, heart, hope and more…
Beliefs shattered;
Buddies and Principals gone.
No longer naive to the truth,
Of the wars that we fight;
Rich man's gain…
Furthering their agendas.
When victory they've achieved,
They bring us home
And abandon us…
Leaving our bodies broken,
Our souls, a joke to our creed.
All we have are our memories…
Our brothers and sisters in battle…
Our scars that never will heal.
These are the spoils of war…
FUCK YOU!
FUCK YOUR GREED!
About the Creator
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