The sound of the drill poises us for the mission

An inhumane laughter, maniacal at best

Explosions fading in the backdrop

and running.

A mind focused on a primary target

Quickened to the touch.

Silent, deadly.

There isn’t time to talk or to count our dead.

We have only the recourse to see it through

Poised to strike

covered in blood and sweat

There is no time for tears.

No remorse.

The will to survive is the whole of the law.

Or else a sacrifice to submission will we ever be.

On this field none cry for peace

They realize without war, peace cannot exist

The only true equality shall come

when dead we have all become.


Published by: Katie Anderson

Katie Anderson is a priestess, mentor, researcher, writer, and artist. She writes essays, poetry, and fiction that intersect history, philosophy, and spirituality. Previous publications include Lilith: Dark Feminine Archetype. She is currently preparing her first book, When Above for self-publication. She lives with her husband and son in Troy, Missouri.

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