Eric Paeplow Poems
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The Death Of Thomas Becket
Sitting here, upon my chair,
Pondering the things, that ponderers do
Should I raise this issue?
Should I approach the Politicians of State?
I came here, only to deliberate,
The complete and total, lack of debate
On the death of Lord Thomas Becket
Was it by intent, or merely by mistake?
The Archbishop of Canterbury?
A swords crushing blow?
What's that you said?
He's lost his head?
My, oh my, I guess that's how it goes
I guess it's true what they said
I wasn't the kick to the groin
But instead, that slash to the head ...
Theater Of Pain
The war is on, it's time to fight
Loose the cannons, the politician's scream
Unleash the beast; let the gathering hoards surge forth
With a burning need for glory and a lust for blood and pain
With their blackened hearts, masked by painted faces
Leaving behind, nothing but carnage, in their wake
So it's off to war again, to hear the screams of the dying
To watch the macabre scene take place