Seff vi Britannia
09-08-2007, 11:43 PM
The Calm before the Storm
Discipline binds me
as we stand in line,
playing the Ace,
passing time
for our turn comes soon
that we may dine,
feast upon blood,
the innards of the snake,
attack them with wrath,
smite them with hate
for the blood they took.
Payback.
Stand by me, my friends,
STAND READY!
The sergeant's shrill cry
enters my ears and
joviality dies.
It is time.
A second i take,
as the whistle is blown
to gather the nerves
in the mind that i roam,
then i leapt, rushing forwards
into the path of crimson water.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Animal I Become.
The sparrow passes overhead,
it's call the only cry in the night,
Black. An omen, says Williams.
Swiftly rebuked, he backs down;
"He's thinking of a raven"
a voice behind me chirps.
Too loud.
Discipline is lost,
my men break formation, scattering
leaping into the undergrowth
under the withering hail of file
and the shouts of foreign voices
yet i keep my position, perfectly still,
A viper poised to strike.
Heavy boots clank into earth by my side,
I spin, drawing my sidearm,
Blood showering over me
Then the cries are louder, closer, more
and in my mind a cloud of doubt forms
fear and panic, becoming strife,
abducting my sanity...
I snap forwards, breaking a jaw,
twisting violently as the silver
shards of metal pound into my chest;
and i persist in my assault,
Mindless and berserk,
the pain drowning me, overwhelming me,
Like the animal i have become.
Discipline binds me
as we stand in line,
playing the Ace,
passing time
for our turn comes soon
that we may dine,
feast upon blood,
the innards of the snake,
attack them with wrath,
smite them with hate
for the blood they took.
Payback.
Stand by me, my friends,
STAND READY!
The sergeant's shrill cry
enters my ears and
joviality dies.
It is time.
A second i take,
as the whistle is blown
to gather the nerves
in the mind that i roam,
then i leapt, rushing forwards
into the path of crimson water.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Animal I Become.
The sparrow passes overhead,
it's call the only cry in the night,
Black. An omen, says Williams.
Swiftly rebuked, he backs down;
"He's thinking of a raven"
a voice behind me chirps.
Too loud.
Discipline is lost,
my men break formation, scattering
leaping into the undergrowth
under the withering hail of file
and the shouts of foreign voices
yet i keep my position, perfectly still,
A viper poised to strike.
Heavy boots clank into earth by my side,
I spin, drawing my sidearm,
Blood showering over me
Then the cries are louder, closer, more
and in my mind a cloud of doubt forms
fear and panic, becoming strife,
abducting my sanity...
I snap forwards, breaking a jaw,
twisting violently as the silver
shards of metal pound into my chest;
and i persist in my assault,
Mindless and berserk,
the pain drowning me, overwhelming me,
Like the animal i have become.