Declare yourself a pawn by Jared OrlandoMy ear gives way to the sound of these black suits marching
Tails in hand; dim darting eyes
Fleets of them; all wearing the same defeated face
The street is flooded with the chant and a lying lapel
As they all seek comfort away from the scorching sun
For that untrained greying god has left them
With only shards to build an empire
A book of how to implode the lands
And build them back in three days
And there is that tremor in this street
And hell if their heels cannot feel it
Following the man with a bomb in his hand
Destruction with a bow lying upon his chapped lips
These black suits of debris and desire
Know nothing else but to march. march. march on 05/30/2008 Posted on 05/30/2008 Copyright © 2025 Jared Orlando
Member Comments on this Poem |
Posted by Kimberly Bowen on 05/30/08 at 04:47 PM "Following the man with a bomb in his hand
Destruction with a bow lying upon his chapped lips
These black suits of debris and desire
Know nothing else but to march. march. march on"
brilliant. |
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