Waring Drug Cartels,
Self Named Generals,
Strutting about like Peacocks,
Spreading Madness,
Murder,
Fear.
Cocaine Cowboys,
All under the watchful eye,
And loving embrace,
Of an Uncle named Sam.
No regard for the bodies,
The devastation,
The massacres,
Until their heads get to big,
And they try and cut Sam out of the profit.
The mighty Dollar rules all,
And Sam is not a forgiving sort.
Lines crossed,
Imaginary.
And in are sent,
Men like me,
To collect a bill,
Make a point,
Something public,
Brutal,
Something to show the others,
Sam,
Does not f**king play,
Not where his money is involved.
And so good men,
Trained to defend freedom,
Are sent in,
Unseen,
Unsanctioned,
In the name of profit,
Greed,
And power.
A Hydra,
Of Cocaine,
Cash,
And Insanity.
I cut off so many heads I lost count.
The hydra never dies.
For Sam's greed is insatiable.
Puppet Governments,
Propped up Evil,
Smiling faces,
Endless Blood.
Just another OP.
Endless Op's.
Halls drenched in Blood.
Good men's Souls,
Forever tainted.
Life seen,
Taken,
End of a knife,
Through a scope.
Heart of Darkness,
Crafted,
Honed,
Perfected,
Impossible situations,
Countless bodies,
Far to much blood.
Our minds,
Hearts,
Souls,
Growing blacker,
As Sam,
And his slaves,
Laugh before piles of Cocaine and cash.
The cost of freedom?
Everything.
1 Heart
I hear you, Sir Eric. I work with veterans to help them recover from PTSD, etc. and I hear all kinds of hideous stories. Which idiot invented war?
1 Heart
@tweaver0222
It’s all good my friend…just purging the Darkness…and the Cheesecake…is all yours…
Horrifically Truthful...............I want to say good poem .........But there is nothing good in it............A beautiful lamentation....... May be more fitting............
1 Heart
@mindslave1
Heaven & Hell made flesh…I chose Heaven…