In ancient times they would have called this The Year of Our Lord
But no one measures time anymore
And belief in God has long since fallen beyond memory
The time of war has come
and we are but ants beneath the tide
Soldiers come
Into our homes, into our hearts
They take our children, they take our wives
They take our husbands, they take our lives
And lucky are those who are the ones to die
Nowhere is safe,
Nowhere is hope
Civilisation is a long forgotten dream
How did it come to this?
When did the world go mad?
No one knows how it started or when
No one knows which country fell first
But in all countries, on every continent
The people are suffering
Our leaders
chosen by us, from us, for us,
Are answerable to no one and nothing
Not even the secret smile of history
For history is written by the powerful and the victorious
The world has fallen to the sins of Man
For Man craves power
And the more power taken by the powerful
The more power they crave
It is long since the people had any power
The screams of women and children fill the night
Like the wind howling outside my window
I stand in the shadows, hunted by demons that walk in the light of day
Haunted by the darkness that has befallen my world
The terror that has gripped my people
The injustice
My thoughts turn as dark as the blackness of my surroundings
As I reflect on what the world has made of me
The enemy say I am a killer
and they are right
For I have killed many
And I will kill many more
My name is known throughout the world
Some call me legend, others myth
The enemy uses an oft' neglected word
Outlaw
It is a name given to criminals
But was a name often given to the heroes of the past
My people call me hero
I do not desire any of these names
I only desire the peace enjoyed by my ancestors
My ancestors
In the town of my birth and heritage
The authority of law became the harbinger of death
They butchered many, my family amongst them
But they did not get me
Gripped by rage for my fallen kin
And with a small group of allies and friends
I took righteous revenge upon those who had broken us
Who had so sorely abused their position
I etched a message in blood for all the world to see
No more
No more will we fall victim to the whim of the powerful and corrupt
No more will we be crushed beneath the boot of persecution
No more should we fear death
For what is death in battle when measured against a life of slavery and torture
Now we stand upon the edge of tomorrow
The sun is starting to rise from the ash of yesterday
I do not know what is to come
But I face it with blood on my hands and with hope in my heart
They all give me names
Some call me Legend, Hero, Myth
Some call me Killer, Enemy,
Outlaw
I wonder what name history will give me
Copyright © John B O'Halloran 2011