Poetry excerpt from Demonic Lulladies.
© S.B. “LullaDIEs”
Oceans of blood, skies of fire,
Of chemical wars man won’t tire.
Loved ones are lost, tears are shed,
Yet bombs are dropped as we lie in bed.
Our prayers are many, answers are few,
The enemy attacks but nothing is new.
The bombardment is deafening to our unprepared ears,
The sound of bullet sprays heightens the fear.
The smell of poisonous smoke fills our senses,
Evidence of war tools created by chemists.
Our once lovely village is burned to the ground,
Heartless soldiers coming from all sides surround.
They wear black bio-suits and masks hide the faces,
To protect from toxic fumes as they butcher our masses.
They slaughter the livestock, with no second glance,
And murder our children without fear of consequence.
In the streets they cut down our helpless elderly folk,
And laugh at the carnage like it’s all a bad joke.
They’ll beat us, starve us, torment our monk,
But when asked for our leader, hold your tongue!
They will kill most, leave the rest in cages,
To watch us die slowly as desperation raises.
Then slaves we will be, like dogs to a master,
But now we pray our deaths will come faster.
Yet again, our prayers are ignored,
And the enemy shows no signs of remorse.
We’re drowned, seared, stabbed, and tortured,
Out of hope that our answers they’ll conjure.
One by one we’re yanked from our prisons,
Returned later half dead, a hellish repetition.
We’re forced to watch our women be violently raped,
And cry along with them, knowing there’s no escape.
The sexual weapons they use are obscure,
They want the fearful effect, but not the deadly curse.
Avoid skin contact with those exposed at all costs,
Don’t breath the same air to survive this holocaust.
We suffer the effects of their atom bomb’s gas,
Radiation conquers our bodies well after the blast.
Tumors begin to grow in obscure and odd places,
This is an unholy, scientific death sentence.
Our skin is melting right off our muscle tissue,
We’re living corpses and from this, there is no rescue.
They think these horrors will lessen our resolve,
But the idea of submission makes our stomachs convulse.
We glare at the soldiers bringing us food,
The hope that it’s poisoned lightens our mood.
We’re deformed beings with broken souls,
From us, our past, present, and future they stole.
Our young are dead, homes now ruins in the ground,
A reason to live only one of us has found.
He is the leader we refuse to give away,
He hangs onto life only to see his people freed someday.
He’s convinced they will soon underestimate us,
And then our captors we can brutally crush.
A glance out the small window tells us we aren’t alone,
In the distance a mushroom cloud has spontaneously grown.
They will have new captives to torment soon,
We’ll be obsolete, and sent to our doom.
Death by firing squad next to a pit,
A shallow mass grave our only exit.
Finally, our prayers are no longer ignored,
Of chemical warfare mankind will never bore.