We interrupt your programming
To bring you news from Atlantis:
“Everywhere is fucking sinking
Around men who say they want this.
There’s been no vote,
No people’s poll,
There’ll be no hope
To save these souls.
They blame their anguish on the war,
And young though weak, they seek to fight;
Elders dictate what youth fights for:
The darker day for brighter night.
On blistered feet,
On aching knees,
Through bloodied teeth,
The poets screamed.”
What do we know of these bastards,
Where does this scum originate?
“Place of naught but love, hate and words,
A place of ‘destiny’, or ‘fate’;
The people shan’t
Trust such virtue,
Cannot love hearts
Of only truth.”
When will these men of poetry,
Artists, romantics fall silent?
“Their deathly dance will yet be seen,
We await beautiful violence.
Though from the crowd,
One man steps forth.
All silent now.
He utters war:”
“Our hearts have been upon our sleeves,
‘Tween our teeth for fifty days now;
The hearts shut eyes for naught but dreams,
These eyes where many hearts have drowned.
Our black-white hearts live all as one,
No diff’rence ‘tween our love and hate,
As we shan’t end, we’ve not begun,
Forever, for nothing, we wait.”