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My Own World War (Free verse) by shit

There´s a battle going on my soul It has began - like all wars For no reason, with no goal And I can´t figure out when it did start I don´t know exactly in which age the smallest flame must have burned and made this conflict rage and into a mess my heart has turned On one side of this battlefield Crusaders fight for the good and light With big red crosses on their shields Their paramedics hold me alive Proud in their horses ride the knights Grand Lords hold the standards Like young french Joan of Arc Powerful fairies shining bright Wizards dressed in the whitest white Prepare to cast their magic bloodier Ran countless miles to meet more soldiers Bringing endless elvish supplies Life and Happiness is their quest Unite my inner nations in peace But they´ll have to learn the warfare Of keeping my suicidal hands at ease Right on the other side Strong men hold the sharpest knives Dressed in shadows and darkness Their real vision means madness All of their strength is sent to the front They´re decided to end this struggling All of their strenght still they won´t Find it easy to finish this lingering Ringwraiths now pilot Blackhawks Morgoth and Hitler shake hands A million marching trained orcs Ready to execute the plans Singing powerful battle hymns They want all of my territory But no loaded Enola Gay they bring To finally put and end to this story Goebbels whispers me good ideas Truth is but a repeated lie Burn my own Rome with no fear Blame it on christians, Oh My! Sometimes when I´m lying on bed Comes that sudden courage to die White army rings the alert red: Blietzkrieg from the other side I know it won´t last a hundred years This sometimes calms my nervous tears But I´m still anxious for the final strike That will make become History this strife But no Alexander or William Wallace Seem to be available here Both sides have no bright strategy To tear down the walls to my palace If at least one side just surrendered But that is so uncommon in wars They´ll fight until lost all the trenches To conquer the territory of My Heart And as the whole world claims So my women and children they plea I´m crawling to keep myself sane I´m here just begging for peace As I sit here speaking of them The battle is raging on cruelly Inside my own chest so angrily On these inner devastated lands Atomic bomb or chemical weapons Whatever it takes I agree Conventions and deals are more welcome But dead or alive the winner I´ll meet.

-=Dark_Angel=-, P.I. 3-Sep-04/8:52 AM
A Gentleman never wrestles with himself, unless it is during a bow'l movement, or following a disastrously inept attempt at the reverse sweep. There is little evidence to suggest either of these two misadventures, here. Frankly, it fails. You fail.




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