Thursday, August 22, 2013


Turret duty makes the juices flow,
For northwards lie the killers,
Silent and unseen in the darkness,
And south of here is the village,
Beckoning and welcoming to us,
We've diluted the coming history,
Become resident by default,
Making homes and families,
In the rain and solitude,
Your average legionnaire,
Is the colour of his homeland,
And his homeland is the empire,
From dry desert to this edge,
There are lights out there,
The fires of other settlements,
But we are citizens and slaves,
To the machine that is the army,

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