Dissection

My soul the General
Directing a blood battle

Commanding legions of voices in my head
Take no prisoners!

A Civil dissection upon shared territory
Pitting brother truth against father lies 

War already won
But war is hell, and this battle, more so

My aristocratic hands, hard evidence
My afire body, further proof

I’m fireproof and unquenchable
A knifesman and blacksmith to the bone

Lincoln Green

Why if we scream
Are we questioned
Our sanity
Our faithfulness
Our allegiance with true patriots

What of war cries
Of the war crimes
Our eyes opened
Our sleeves rolled-up
Our feet planted where lies cannot stand

When Good returns
To the Empire
Who’ll be kneeling
Who’ll be weeping
Who’ll be seeing that they have no clothes

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