My country is a slave to death

2nd draft always sings after like song.

 

Every death carries

an exoskeleton on its back

as flies a buzzard

adorned with screeds

circling circling

hunger games for a map

dilates the scornful

where love lies bleeding.

 

Quoth the Raven, “Nevermore.”

pray for loved ones kiss the floor.

 

Guns blanket fire

with a buyers mad greed

run run for your life

die for your country

sweet chicken feed!

nobody but the soldier

through a window of love

bears this taint

for spilling innocents blood.

 

Quoth the Raven, “Nevermore.”

pray for loved ones kiss the floor.

 

Brochures of bullets

raving for grace

merry, a poster

of this obscene race

ban the 2nd –

with John Browns face!

 

Quoth the Raven, “Nevermore.”

pray for loved ones hit the floor.

 

My country my country

is a slave to blood

a sweet reign of caskets

draped in the horrors of love

wrapped in respect 

wrapped in pride for the dead

guns saved us from tyranny

with this freedom

we bled.

 

Quoth the Raven, “Nevermore.”

pray for loved ones hit the floor.

 

Proof of your ardor

horde tight to your guns!

romancing the hunger games

how have you won?

tears of honor

tears that we share!

weep for tomorrow

no nothing compares.

 

Quoth the Raven, “Nevermore.”

pray for loved ones tear up the floor.