Marching Off To War

all the poets
simply stood idly by.
Watched and took notes
while the world burned
and the people marched
off to war,
wrapped in an all encompassing
ball of fuzz
eliminating doubt and questions.
Marching off to war.

On Your Knees And Crawl

Crawl
to your master.
Crawl
to your savior.
Crawl
to the one that controls you.
Crawl across bloody minefields,
salvation lies awake
awaiting the first
desperate soldier
to stumble across her
and drink her all down
in one last desperate attempt
to escape the threshing fields.