Captain of My Soul...

Foam, claret red, surround lifeless vessel, death of waves float muted bodies,
Limbs from not its purpose, like driftwood to strangers land,
Whistling bullets meant for me, instead killing my friend, also despaired enemies, 
Staggering, shaking, intoxicated by fear, with rifle tight in hand. 

Shall I find myself torn upon this beach? 
To glorify the tears of battle? 
Scars of haunted images in sleepless reach? To purify the death rattle? 
From sea to land, to dust and bones, 
I'll be the captain of my own soul. 

Tide nudges soldier upon soldier, cattle already slaughtered from inhumane breath,
Lies cover pages upon pages, read all about your sons and daughters, war undressed, 
Naked to the dying eye, hearing screams of blood curdling cries, 
Stench of propaganda, faces change colour from politicians ties. 

Strangle as they could, squeeze that human blood, can you taste the fruitful oak? 
Shelter yourself at home, light cigars from hot coals, can you smell the victory smoke? 
Wounded, dumbfounded, sleeping between the cracks on tattooed streets, 
Blinded, confided, to the ears that listen, the stillness of word's that give peace. 

Shall I find myself torn upon this beach? 
To glorify the tears of battle? 
Scars of haunted images in sleepless reach? To purify the death rattle? 
From sea to land, to dust and bones, 
I'll be the captain of my own soul. 

With sorrow or death, I drink from this chalice, 
Droplets of war taste bitter, 
Drip, drop, 
Drip, drop, 
Wealthy lived, 
Money piled up, 
Who was the real killer? 

Where blades of grass blanket patriotic homes, 
Where rows and rows with flower filled stones, 
From sea to land, now, dust and bones, 
A mere captain, 
A mere captain, of my own soul...