Monday, September 26, 2011

Pacified Pawns

Fire fire fire,
Smoke Smoke smoke,
Feed the young men oatmeal,
Make them think it’s a joke,
Let the night spur their zeal,
The winds will carry the words I spoke,
Don’t stop until,
Every flame has been choked.

Smoke smoke smoke,
Fire fire fire,
Let the men grab their guns,
It is all that they’ll require,
The sun will light their path,
They will suppress their every desire,
Their bed shall be pure earth,
The grass their thoughts inspire.

Fire fire fire,
Smoke smoke smoke,
Take the men away from battle,
Make sure they go broke,
Promise them a thousand cattle,
Then deliver a single cloak,
Put them in a remote chattel,
Surround them with kinsfolk.

Smoke Smoke Smoke,
Fire fire fire,
Watch the old men one by one,
As from life they retire,
Support the family of a dead man.
Give their families less than they require,
Name a backstreet if you can,
The pawns have played their part,
In your grand masterplan.


  1. Read it twice and I can't seem to get that daft District Commissioner witness out of my head. I hope he is somehow relevant here.

  2. The poem can mean whatever you want it to mean.


Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.