Bogged Down in Death
Bogged down in the mud –
Targets for the taking.
Mutinous and exhausted
Morale through the floor.
Witnessing horror.
Souls aching. Innocents quaking.
They can’t take it anymore.
Blunted by terror,
By what their eyes have seen,
They are mindless
Killing machines.
Bodies litter streets
Mass graves and executions,
Without hope, as in a dream, totally obscene.
Looting and pillaging,
Raping and killing,
Insane with propaganda.
No fear of prosecution,
Expecting death.
No longer fighting for anything grander.
Empty vessels drawing breath.
Colossal losses,
Capricious missiles,
Carnage beyond imagination.
Seeking fascism in the wrong place,
Driving democracy out
From an entire nation.
The dance of death’s own disgrace.
Opher – 2.5.2022
As with most wars, it starts with expectations of a swift conclusion but ends in the reality of long-drawn-out attrition.
Propaganda steals minds.
Soldiers witness the horrors of seeing friends maimed and blown to pieces beside them. There is no skill – only luck. Living in the shadow of constant terror the mind becomes numb.
When the opportunity presents itself they seek revenge, an outlet, an orgy of release. They execute, rape, torture and exert their power. It’s all they have. They have ceased to be human. They are immune to conscience.
All that exists is death.
There is no end in sight, no escape – just more of the same until the orders are given or the bullet strikes.
Who is to blame? It’s always the ones safe in the bunkers giving out the orders.
