Follow your inner moonlight; don't hide the madness.
steve a. manolis poet
In who’s name have we fought and died
For the sake of those gods we cry to
For the payment of lives too young to speak
Too old to fight or too troubled to care beyond thought.
We bury the broken bones left shattered on the wayside
Limbs scattered, guns emptied, bayonets charred
Blood has spilled, tears have muddied the faces.
Mothers, fathers, sons and daughters all dead.
With who’s flag do we unfold
Who’s anthem to the final horns we should wail
When the dawn wakens one final day
And finds the living bent on knees
Hands wringing the words from books
That have lost meaning to all silenced
in the name of god, or allah, or mohammed.
In who’s eyes does this final vestige of humanity fall
In who’s eyes do these words find.