Holy Stain

Holy Stain

A Poem by Wulfstan Crumble

 

A single bead of sweat,

Rolls,

As the sun beats down.

Burning flesh afire,

Roasting souls,

Heaven’s soldiers, welcome to hell!

 

 

Santa Barbara breeze,

Your coastal cool,

A caress long remembered,

As sand swirls about my feet.

Only boots, not sandals,

Now crunch,

The deserts of hate.

 

 

White crosses,

Row upon row.

The boatman’s tally,

Beside the tourist pier.

A cross born by each saint,

A fallen hero’s last monument.

 

 

As to the allied dead,

The willing, the bribed,

And,

The lapdogs of stupidity,

All forgotten,

Yet, a worse fate exists,

As testified,

By the sea of ghosts beyond.

The murdered innocents, nameless,

And ignored.

 

 

Warriors!

Clad in muscle and valour,

I hail your prowess!

 

 

Though,

With a heavy heart, I say,

It is not war,

Not anymore,

Buttons and ballistics.

Finds the honour,

Not in remote controlled

Weapons.

 

 

Look,

At the carnage of followed orders,

Blades stabbing the wrong Bush.

Feel, the crumbling stone

In your trigger happy fingers.

See the trees burn,

And the rivers run dry,

As their children melt.

 

 

Hate dwells here now,

Vengeance, and,

White washed churches.

Slum to slum.

Basra to Boston.

You wear star spangled banners,

You wear them like Spartan cloaks,

And yet,

It is blood, not cloth,

That runs down your backs.

 

 

Bred to kill,

And do their will,

Soldiers to the president,

The first to fall,

The first to feel the blade

In the back.

You are left to swing,

At untraceable commands.

 

 

Fine men,

Occasional woman,

The spineless hack,

And those up the president’s crack,

You cave in to be strong,

Give in to illiberty.

What is left? what crumbs?

Of your vaulted freedoms?

 

 

Procrastinator of peace,

Slaughterer of the pen,

Sign upon this dotted line,

Resign, you did just fine.

Relax, have another scotch,

It’s all on the rocks.


 

© 2008 Wulfstan Crumble


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Reviews

wow.
nicely done!
incited my emotions, on multiple levels.
right mix of historical data and raw information, i keep rereading it. =)

Posted 16 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.


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Added on February 8, 2008

Author

Wulfstan Crumble
Wulfstan Crumble

Cirencester, England, and Kishiwada, Osaka, United Kingdom



About
Wulfstan Crumble is a 27 year old Englishman. He is currently working on a plethora of pieces for various anthologies and magazines (hoping not all will get rejected). He really hopes that some o.. more..

Writing