A spinning bullet whined above his head and he was scared
Across the valley through the rocks and trees shots flared
He flattened himself as low as he could to become one with the rock
A rifle close against his cheek while one hand turned white holding the stock
After several volleys the quiet came emphasising the moon and stars in the night
Moving slowly with a chameleon’s stealth he rolled over with his eye to the sight
Searching his memory from the last flash seen he felt the cold creep up his back
Strangers came preaching his ways were wrong as he gently squeezed his rifle cracked
Please let it end was all that he hoped as he prayed to his God listening above
He was just a farmer, a tiller of the land but we do what we do for
The ones we love
Flashes erupted like fireworks night at the lake at home but he was scared
Across the valley came bits of hot metal like angry bees as more shots flared
He felt superior in his battle fatigues, his helmet, his gun and this rock
His M4 ready, held high against his chest and an bald eagle carved in the stock
As it went quiet and at the right time he leaped to his feet and pumped shots at the night
It didn’t matter to him the bullets were free so there is no need to put his eye to the sight
His adrenaline surged men called out and he wondered at the stars as he lay on his back
These people were no match for them, he knew this as he heard an old rifle crack
He was a deliverer of freedom and righteousness as pronounced by his God above
He was soldier sent to die for the father of his land and told it’s required
The ones we love
He’d heard some were killed but he was not fussed and never ever was he scared
Sitting behind a slab of maple and teak and smiling as his profits flared
Selling his wares of destruction to both sides then scrambling away under his rock
Whipping the factory for more and more with saliva dripping as he watched the stock
A black tie as he acted his part, wooing the money holders well into the night
His flaccid personality perfect for suck, please the blood and guts is well out of sight
His only strength in the lies he believes, money can buy anything except a spine for his back
Sitting in his building so far from reality of life even some else holds the whip he cracks
He the spreader of evil, a parasite on our world and believing he is the great God above
Not caring of course who lives and dies but more who has the money and just for him
The only one he loves.
Anthracite 