Untitled

Cobra spits hot venom
The angry wasp she flies
Her stingers ripping open
The fertile Cresent sky
Roaring dragon screaming
Across horizons high
Vaporizing annihilation
In her flames they die
The mutilated offerings
what's left of her flight
Flames of bone and concrete
Left burning in the night
They called to her on wireless
Begged her to fly our way
Burning manscapes to the ground
and we went on our way

Author's Note

If you like this one read my feature piece "Roaring Death Machine " It's an older piece on the same subject.

Reviews

[quinfinn]

this screams of the weapons of modern technology and of the dogs of war from the viewpoint of the "flyers of these cobras and dragons". if i am wrong, this is the best unintentional metaphor i have ever seen. awesome!

[Baby Ricochet]

Thank you