War Drums

War Drums

Hastily mounted
Was a war drum set
To the front of
A motorcycle

Deftly pounded by a pair
Of young boys with flaming hair
Inciting an aggression
Wherever they rode

Heading the front, ahead of
Pithy bugle boys were
Heralds of the coming war, breaking
Beats of the banshee’s song

Thump thump
Goes the soul
Bereaved and struck
With holes

Melting pores
Of sabotaged veins
And decrepit
Dead arteries

Into the return
Of life to the muscle
But no outlet for life
To pour into

It smells of death
Potent unresting breaths
Bathed in the woes
Of distant lives’ throes

Over trenches and bombs
Into bunkers and ambush palms
Fire rises to carry heat of the drum
Into the air and tear into foes

No weak, double-breasted vests
They’re about
Trumpets and

This battle ain’t worth fighting
If it isn’t lit and torn asunder
Demoralizing enemy wonders and
Ignited to cracks of thunder

Bullets may hurt
But the snares are much louder
Songs are upbeat
So pain is staved longer

The ground, it shakes
Shifting tectonic plates
Rocking places in their wake
Moving on as terrain breaks

They ride and ride
Flag carried an’ held high
Beneath the air of fury
And the banshee song beat flurries

Published by Jake Thomas Shaw

Concerned with memory, currency, and destiny, I strive to capture each one as they happen. Join me and consume reality! Radio Reality. City!

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