Betrayal

I have roamed ‘pon Afghanistan’s plains
Where noble Kipling enjoined us from the past
In defeat
To blow out our brains
And go to our gawd like a soldier
That path I have not trod
Though friends have… through shame, neglect, and hidden pains…

After defeat… home in a quiet room – the bottle’s burning comfort glows golden in the half-light
Bring me peace, if only for a little while
Get up in the morning and don a mask, none must know
Bills to pay, obligations half remembered
Loyalty in full, payment in lies
Social contract thus dismembered

What for us now
Sent to do the bidding of lesser men
To face a false enemy, the two-minute hate
While the real foe is among us
His plan marches forward, his contempt does not abate

I drink the bitter cup of betrayal
My hatred does not abate

- Dave Taylor