Tune

Sleep well, my friend.
Don’t think about the war.
Tinker away on a tune, on your guitar.

Drown out the guns,
Drown out the planes,
Play until your fingers bleed –
Till it drives you sane.

War? Where?

Hear the thunder as it comes,
Count down the seconds,
Watch for the flashes,
Flashbangs and guns, shouts,
Demonstrations, the thunder, as it comes,
As it comes,
Closer and closer.

The guns, the guns,
Come closer and closer
Till they stare you in the eye.
The thunder, it comes, rolling through the sky.

Now is not a time to be blind
To the thunder
And the guns,
So put your hands up
And raise them in the air
And wave them around
Like you just dont care.

Resolve

What a day it was
A killing breeze reigned
Across frozen waters and lakes
A high moon in a cancer ridden sky

The sun hid in dark alcoves
Caves and the wanderers of the wastelands
Covered in coveted lies
Truths and unknown impossibilities

The septum of irreverence
The eye in the midst of it all
An omnipotent god of nothing
An impotent snail in a water trough
Climbing up the sides
A trail of desolation
Smoke in the hives and honey
Stolen by kings and queens

Sweet ignorance where art thou
Awareness kills the element of surprise
Joy escapes the violence
A butterfly in a wartorn hellscape

The end of it all
As sleep succumbs to existence

Shovels beat the sun

The shovels beat the sun,
And the enemy falls upon us
To try and bury us six feet under.
For King and country we find ourselves
In the mines of Golgotha,
Digging up false prophets
And prophecies of end times –
Scrolls and revelations from a god
That has left us in the mud.
The colour of our cap only matters
To those that wish to beat us
To the holy grail that’s as sought after
As an act of revenge against the man
That would betray the saviour with a kiss
Of love, death, and deceit.
But here we lie, here we lay,
Six feet under with the dead,
All to keep the dead at bay.

Inspired by a line from Peaky Blinders