the world war III

[pillory]

is it over already?
has it started yet?
Is it going to flame?
is it going on?
who cares about s*it?

[bangdazap]

Dulce Et Decorum Est
by Wilfred Owen
First Published in 1921


Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,
Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,
Till on the haunting flares we turned out backs,
And towards our distant rest began to trudge.
Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots,
But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame, all blind;
Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots
Of gas-shells dropping softly behind.

Gas! GAS! Quick, boys!--An ecstasy of fumbling
Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time,
But someone still was yelling out and stumbling
And flound'ring like a man in fire or lime.--
Dim through the misty panes and thick green light,
As under a green sea, I saw him drowning.

In all my dreams before my helpless sight
He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning.

If in some smothering dreams, you too could pace
Behind the wagon that we flung him in,
And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,
His hanging face, like a devil's sick of sin,
If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood
Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs
Bitter as the cud
Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,--
My friend, you would not tell with such high zest
To children ardent for some desperate glory,
The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est
Pro patria mori.

---

The Attack
by Seigfreid Sasoon

At dawn the ridge emerges massed and dun
In the wild purple of the glow'ring sun,
Smouldering through spouts of drifting smoke that shroud
The menacing scarred slope; and, one by one,
Tanks creep and topple forward to the wire.
The barrage roars and lifts. Then, clumsily bowed
With bombs and guns and shovels and battle-gear,
Men jostle and climb to meet the bristling fire.
Lines of grey, muttering faces, masked with fear,
They leave their trenches, going over the top,
While time ticks blank and busy on their wrists,
And hope, with furtive eyes and grappling fists,
Flounders in mud. O Jesus, make it stop!

[Bluegill]

I like pillory's poem better than the other two.

[NightG1]

Originally posted by pillory
is it over already?
has it started yet?
Is it going to flame?
is it going on?
who cares about s*it?
Have you seen it?
The Terminator 2
On the DVD or the Laserdisk?
Was that WWIII of the beginning
or was that the end?
Only Arnold knows

[bangdazap]

Originally posted by Bluegill
I like pillory's poem better than the other two.

BATTLE HYMN
by Manowar

By Moonlight We Ride
Ten Thousand Side By Side
With Swords Drawn Held High
Our Whips And Armor Shine
Hail To Thee Our Infantry
Still Brave Beyond The Grave
All Sworn The Eternal Vow
The Time To Strike Is Now

Kill Kill

Gone Are The Days When Freedom Shone
Now Blood And Steel Meet Bone
In The Light Of The Battle’s Wake
The Sands Of Time Will Shake
How Proud Our Soldiers Stand
With Mace And Chain In Hand
Sound The Charge Into Glory Ride
Over The Top Of Their Vanquished Pride

Victory Victory

To The Battle We Ride
We Crossed A Starlit Sky
No Space No Time
We’ll Catch The Wind
Strange Losses Men Died
We Crossed A Starlit Sky
And Still No Space And Time
We’ll Catch The Wind

Kill Kill

Sound The Charge Into Glory Ride
Over The Top Of Their Vanquished Pride
By Moonlight We Ride
Ten Thousand Side By Side

Kill Kill

----

HAIL AND KILL
by Manowar

Brothers I Am Calling From The Valley Of The Kings
With Nothing To Atone
A Dark March Lies Ahead Together We Will Ride
Like Thunder From The Sky
May Your Sword Stay Wet Like A Young Girl In Her Prime
Hold Your Hammers High

Blood And Death Are Waiting Like A Raven In The Sky
I Was Born To Die
Hear Me While I Live Now As I Look Into Your Eyes
None Shall Hear A Lie
Now Power And Dominion Are Taken By The Will
By Divine Right Hail And Kill

Hail Hail Hail And Kill
Hail And Kill
Hail Hail Hail And Kill
Hail And Kill

My Father Was A Wolf I’m A Kinsman Of The Slain
Sworn To Rise Again
I Will Bring Salvation Punishment And Pain
The Hammer Of Hate Is Our Faith
Power And Dominion Are Taken By The Will
By Divine Right Hail And Kill

Hail Hail Hail And Kill
Hail And Kill
Hail Hail Hail And Kill
Hail And Kill

Rip Their Flesh Burn Their Hearts
Stab Them In The Eyes
Rape Their Women As They Cry
Kill Their Servants Burn Their Homes
Till There’s No Blood Left To Spill
Hail And Kill

Power And Dominion Are Taken By The Will
By Divine Right Hail And Kill

Hail Hail Hail And Kill
Hail And Kill

[Jon_in_london]

Half a league, half a league,
Half a league onward,
All in the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.
"Forward, the Light Brigade!
Charge for the guns!" he said:
Into the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.

"Forward, the Light Brigade!"
Was there a man dismayed?
Not though the soldier knew
Some one had blundered:
Their's not to make reply,
Their's not to reason why,
Their's but to do and die:
Into the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.

Cannon to right of them,
Cannon to left of them,
Cannon in front of them
Volleyed and thundered;
Stormed at with shot and shell,
Boldly they rode and well,
Into the jaws of Death,
Into the mouth of Hell
Rode the six hundred.

Flashed all their sabres bare,
Flashed as they turned in air
Sabring the gunners there,
Charging an army, while
All the world wondered:
Plunged in the battery-smoke
Right through the line they broke;
Cossack and Russian
Reeled from the sabre-stroke
Shattered and sundered.
Then they rode back, but not,
Not the six hundred.

Cannon to right of them,
Cannon to left of them,
Cannon behind them
Volleyed and thundered;
Stormed at with shot and shell,
While horse and hero fell,
They that had fought so well
Came through the jaws of Death
Back from the mouth of Hell,
All that was left of them,
Left of six hundred.

When can their glory fade?
O the wild charge they made!
All the world wondered.
Honour the charge they made!
Honour the Light Brigade,
Noble six hundred!

-Tennyson.

[Jon_in_london]

We have done with Hope and Honour, we are lost to Love and Truth,
We are dropping down the ladder rung by rung,
And the measure of our torment is the measure of our youth.
God help us, for we knew the worst too young!
Our shame is clean repentance for the crime that brought the sentence,
Our pride it is to know no spur of pride,
And the Curse of Reuben holds us till an alien turf enfolds us
And we die, and none can tell Them where we died.
We're poor little lambs who've lost our way,
Baa! Baa! Baa!
We're little black sheep who've gone astray,
Baa--aa--aa!
Gentlemen-rankers out on the spree,
Damned from here to Eternity,
God ha' mercy on such as we,
Baa! Yah! Bah!

-Kipling

[Pak_43]

I went into a public-'ouse to get a pint o' beer,
The publican 'e up an' sez, "We serve no red-coats here."
The girls be'ind the bar they laughed an' giggled fit to die,
I outs into the street again an' to myself sez I:
O it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Tommy, go away";
But it's "Thank you, Mister Atkins", when the band begins to play,
The band begins to play, my boys, the band begins to play,
O it's "Thank you, Mister Atkins", when the band begins to play.

I went into a theatre as sober as could be,
They gave a drunk civilian room, but 'adn't none for me;
They sent me to the gallery or round the music-'alls,
But when it comes to fightin', Lord! they'll shove me in the stalls!
For it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Tommy, wait outside";
But it's "Special train for Atkins" when the trooper's on the tide,
The troopship's on the tide, my boys, the troopship's on the tide,
O it's "Special train for Atkins" when the trooper's on the tide.

Yes, makin' mock o' uniforms that guard you while you sleep
Is cheaper than them uniforms, an' they're starvation cheap;
An' hustlin' drunken soldiers when they're goin' large a bit
Is five times better business than paradin' in full kit.
Then it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Tommy, 'ow's yer soul?"
But it's "Thin red line of 'eroes" when the drums begin to roll,
The drums begin to roll, my boys, the drums begin to roll,
O it's "Thin red line of 'eroes" when the drums begin to roll.

We aren't no thin red 'eroes, nor we aren't no blackguards too,
But single men in barricks, most remarkable like you;
An' if sometimes our conduck isn't all your fancy paints,
Why, single men in barricks don't grow into plaster saints;
While it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Tommy, fall be'ind",
But it's "Please to walk in front, sir", when there's trouble in the wind,
There's trouble in the wind, my boys, there's trouble in the wind,
O it's "Please to walk in front, sir", when there's trouble in the wind.

You talk o' better food for us, an' schools, an' fires, an' all:
We'll wait for extry rations if you treat us rational.
Don't mess about the cook-room slops, but prove it to our face
The Widow's Uniform is not the soldier-man's disgrace.
For it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Chuck him out, the brute!"
But it's "Saviour of 'is country" when the guns begin to shoot;
An' it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' anything you please;
An' Tommy ain't a bloomin' fool -- you bet that Tommy sees!

[DaChew]

Liberty or death, what we so proudly hail
Once you provoke her, rattling of her tail
Never begins it, never, but once engaged...
Never surrenders, showing the fangs of rage

Don't tread on me

So be it
Threaten no more
To secure peace is to prepare for war
So be it
Settle the score
Touch me again for the words that you'll hear evermore...

Don't tread on me

Love it or live it, she with the deadly bite
Quick is the blue tongue, forked as lighting strike
Shining with brightness, always on surveillance
The eyes, they never close, emblem of vigilance

Don't tread on me

So be it
Threaten no more
To secure peace is to prepare for war
So be it
Settle the score
Touch me again for the words that you'll hear evermore...

Don't tread on me

So be it
Threaten no more
To secure peace is to prepare for war

Liberty or death, what we so proudly hail
Once you provoke her, rattling on her tail

So be it
Threaten no more
To secure peace is to prepare for war
So be it
Settle the score
Touch me again for the words that you'll hear evermore...

Don't tread on me

[Tricky]

The Gates of Delirium

Stand and fight we do consider
Reminded of an inner pact between us
That's seen as we go
And ride there
In motion
To fields in debts of honor
Defending

Stand the marchers soaring talons,
Peaceful lives will not deliver freedom,
Fighting we know,
Destroy oppression
The point to reaction
As leaders look to you
Attacking

Choose and renounce throwing chains to the floor.
Kill or be killing faster sins correct the flow.
Casting giant shadows off vast penetrating force
To alter via the war that seen
As friction spans the spirits wrath ascending (slowly) to redeem.

Wars that shout in screams of anguish,
Power spent passion bespoils our soul receiver,
Surely we know.
In glory
We rise to offer,
Create our freedom,
A word we utter,
A word.

Words cause our banner, victorious our day.
Will silence be promised as violence display?
The curse increased we fight the power
And live by it by day.
Our gods awake in thunderous roars,
And guide the leaders' hand in paths of glory to the cause.

Listen, should we fight forever
Knowing as we do know fear destroys?
Listen, should we leave our children?
Listen, our lives stare in silence;
Help us now.

Listen, your friends have been broken,
They tell us of your poison; now we know.
Kill them, give them as they give us.
Slay them, burn their childrens' laughter
On to hell.

The fist will run, grasp metal to gun.
The spirit sings in crashing tones,
We gain the battle drum.
Our cries will shrill, the air will moan and crash into the dawn.
The pen won't stay the demon's wings,
The hour approaches pounding out the Devil's sermon.
...
---Jon Anderson

[Jon_in_london]

Oooooo!! MEtallica are such good poets!!!
wait wait!! heres a nother gewd 1!!!!11

Every Rose has its Thorn
Just Like Every Cowboy
Sings a Sad Sad Song

[DaChew]

Oooooo!! MEtallica are such good poets!!!

Jeez! What the hell is your problem?