The Crows Ate Well That Day

’twas dawn that called,
In all its fire,
To start the raging battle,
Such armour shone,
And voices raised,
All swords were set to rattle.
The sweeping armies
Formed their lines,
With strength to hold their sway,
And though the tales
A victory told,
The crows ate well that day.

Their champions strode,
With hero’s deeds,
All enemies cast asunder,
The rank and file
With pike and staff,
Caused noise to rival thunder.
The charges and their
Counter moves,
Unlucky ones to slay,
The blood that bloomed
Like roses red,
The crows ate well that day.

As smoke retreats,
The fires die,
Cruel fate has picked its winners,
There lay the dead,
All equal now,
The holy and the sinners.
This battle may have
Turned the tide,
Could have the final say,
But all is known of
Bloody war,
The crows ate well that day.

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Asking

Asking once more for an awkward assertion,
Begging for blindness, borrowing time,
Calmly you call me, craving coercion,
Dwelling on distance where damage is mine.

Everything evil, you expect subversion,
Forecast the future though falling apart,
Grateful for nothing, a gift to be certain,
Harrowing history colours your heart.

Injured and ignorant, empty inversion,
Justice for no-one, a jury will judge,
Killing me slowly, a kind of corruption,
Loving me never, a looseness of lust.

Maybe a miracle, magic uncertain,
Nothing for nothing, hoping for nought,
Offering peace with an obvious option,
Promising all but policing all thought.

Questions unanswered with quiet emotion,
Rough the response to reality roared,
Softly you sing to me, songs of seduction,
Tunes for the tuneless, talent so flawed.

Uselessly begging for utter immersion,
Vanquish the self via being unkind,
Wearing the badge of my wounded condition,
X-rated thoughts in an X-rated mind.

You are the cause and yes you are the reason,
Zealot I call you, the zeitgeist of mine,
You are the problem and you the solution,
Zero my hope of a calm zen-like mind.

Mist Coloured Room

It’s cool and removed,
With a scent of the past,
Successes and failures,
Colour the mast,
And where I must stay
For my beauty to bloom,
Forever alone
In my mist coloured room.

It’s quiet and still,
A place to be heard,
The shouts of the world,
Take flight like a bird,
And where I must dwell,
And be gone none too soon,
Forever at peace
In my mist coloured room.

It’s locked and withdrawn,
A secret retreat,
The keys are all mine,
Kept private and neat,
And where I will live,
From midnight ’til noon,
Forever as one
In my mist coloured room.

C Wing

C wing on lock down,
Climbing the walls,
Feeling minute though I’m
Six foot six tall,
Noises and chatter,
The lingo inside,
Papers and baccie,
Not easy to hide.

C wing on lock down,
Cell mate a knob,
Thinks he’s a big man,
But can’t do the job,
Whispers his secrets,
While feigning a sleep,
Violence an option
Coz bruises are cheap.

C wing on lock down,
Someone was cut,
Think it was Smiffy,
He was always a nut,
Screws and their searches,
Looking for blades,
Quick with a palming,
Evidence fades.

C wing on lock down,
Life in a box,
Doors with their slamming,
Stuck behind locks,
Life for a sinner,
Crimes that you pay,
C wing on lock down,
Day after day.