This Fight Of YoursA Poem by Tash HillWe are unwilling combatants in this fight of yours. Veterans of harmony; we asked not, for any wars.We are unwilling combatants in
this fight of yours. Veterans of harmony; we asked
not, for any wars. We stand before you, white flags
all bloodied and torn, as we sacrifice ourselves for
this oath you have sworn. We are a rose with no petals, left
only the thorn; our innocence the collateral of
this hatred you have born. We fell and are felled, in this skirmish
for nonentity; for a war that was birthed in the
loss of their equity. Their freedom was the crime, our
souls the penalty, the innocent the victims of this
ceaseless enmity. We are naught but victims in this
fight of yours. Soldiers of peace; we asked not,
for any wars. You named the terms and drew the
bloody lines, only to abandon all honour as you
lay your ruinous mines. Upon your hands the blood of our
people shines, their screams coiled tight about
you as if vines. The line between virtuous and immoral
is quick to be blurred, in this hell you have fashioned
and the evil you have spurred. Your voice amongst millions is
the only to be heard; your speech the wicked gospel, the
tyrant word. We are prisoners of war in this fight of yours. Warriors of freedom; we asked not, for any wars. © 2014 Tash HillReviews
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