"Bullets & Bones"

"Where are the mighty swords rusting,

Adjusting with artillery, with sceptical brains;

From whence the muscles aren't harvesting!

Arteries have pumped more blood than veins;

To haunted fingers aroused by triggering lure,

When death is to die as early as premature!

Wings clattering strains of a roasted chicken

A sigh of relief is in fact a burning reaction

Arrows and bullets as thunder stricken

Fair isn't war any more, a couple isn't reaction-action

The cold bed-ridden flesh astounding war

The heroes of battle turned cowards so far

To the saddle, the footnotes of every folklore

Bravery spilt sweat with sown seeds

And from behind the stony-metallic door

A ghost is on the loose and to which way it leads

Address of soul has turned down pages

A moment of satisfaction earned barely wages."