Cannons in the Distance

I hear the cannons in the distance its been weeks since we got a break

The fighting stays consistent which is expected, as this situation calls for rainy days

Scenes of tarnished human bodies litter the canvas

The painter took no hostages his paint brush demanded that

I looked down at my hands and they were stained with blood

I am the villain they came for so it was my job to further the grudge

A realist I have always said myself to be

Yet I stand in the valley where nothing is as it seems

To my left I see the moon a ways off

I slighted to the right and saw the sun taking its robe off

Its funny, they always said that black attracts heat

It makes sense now after seeing the sun’s strip tease

Many men have dedicated their lives to fight these battles

And many more will join before the matter is settled

The things we will do to be recognized are out of this world

That is where they belong, as they are not needed in this realm

If we could only grasp this one simple truth we would live on in ecstasy

But we are creatures of habit; we trade in our lives for a few minutes of fantasy

As my mind wanders off on this journey of untold mysteries

I hear my sergeant call out for me

His raspy voice beckons the battalions rather eloquently

Yet there is a care in his tone that the heart dare not ignore

For those longing for purpose He has an open door

We longed for something to die for, so we came to these shores

We are all battle ready but some just refuse to fight

We were all meant to live but some choose to die

Death is a given only living is a choice

When we settle for anything less we signup to take someone else’s life

The casualties surrounding us are murders we committed

These are crimes against the crown no chance of being acquitted

It is a deep tragedy when a man takes his own life

The battles of our souls we all face are deeply intertwined

When your guns are pointed at me I played a role in your stance

Remember when the dance floor is empty its because you decided not to dance

I woke this morning and the cannons did not sound

The war must be over but if not my berretta has one more round

By: Latoya Francis

Date: April 15, 2014

Time: 4:32am