Not Political
Words
are warriors
let them ride
over mountain’s teeth
let them climb
let them leap
like ghosts of mastabas
over sands and tradition
raised against ignorants
peeling skin of sycophants
mouth breathing their falsehoods
with dead machines
only numbers describe
but never heal.
Words are warriors
let them run
between fallen honours
let them charge
let them roar
loud against the halfwits
and their door sniggering
doomed meat stares
never seeing stars.
Let them loose
among dumb and damned
let them out
let them free -
speaking to the idiots
line dancing in blood.
Shred ropes of shock and awe
before ask and lust for more.
Dead must be hypocrasy
and words must fight.
Now stop the war.