There is the pride of conquest,
imperialism has etched lines onto his face,
now haggard spent and old he still thinks the spoils are his only.
He can’t even hold his cup let alone the gun he once brandished,
used at will on both the innocent and guilty.
He was cruel and merciless in most cases,
he had even killed youth without a qualm.
There are no second thoughts and the bullet lodges itself
or passes through the victim’s body.
Soldiers of Christ, of Islam
Signals are hidden digital drone
The silence before the strike
The hand of two Gods
Wiping the battlefront clean
Wiping the protagonists away
Dust to dust
Remember the battle
Guerilla tactics
The war will go on in our minds
As the dead youth seek vengeance
Islam takes vengeance
Christ redeems in vengeance
The war never ends
As long as we never admit defeat