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The Executed Soldier’s Tale
Prologue
“My fellow soldiers”, she governed in her truthful tone,
“I’m watching you, as I usually do, quiet and alone.
Silent and still, the harassment goes untold
But I am here today, watch the story unfold.
You are not what you seem, no answers, no reasons,
Forged personalities equal counterfeit lives.
Geschmiedete Beschaffenheiten gleiche Fälschungleben.

I utter my words so quiet a mouse
None ever hear the lexis that drips from my mouth douse.
I want to help you, stop you from your hypocrisy
No intentions of an autocracy.
Misunderstood with my personal seal,
You will never understand the pain I feel.

I want to save you, guide each one of you,
But it seems impossible with your biased point of view.
Instead of following I mellow far behind
Why is this shallow America so blind?
Its ok to be different, we all have fears
I want to assist you, allow me to wipe away your tears.

Character is built through blistering hearts
And each one of you incase black and corrupt parts.
Inner individual is not so much as demon and hell
Souls being sold… sit up straight maggot militia; I have a tale to tell.


The Executed Soldier’s Tale

Of this individual I would like to tell
And I want to make point of it this eccentric soldier fell.
She drowned in her own hidden persona.
All her life fading into society’s resemblance
Eaten away by this semblance.
“She isn’t real”
“She doesn’t feel”
In this time of conventionality her pretty little face matched
Each of their pretty little faces
Except her hidden thighs, pleasantly scratched.
Control her, so she can control only one thing
Her measure of pain, a dagger she did bring
And nothing could stop the gashes that decorated her pale wrists.

A man she followed, he was everything she wanted to be
Intelligent, handsome, all pleasing except for his insanity,
She was unaware of this, swallowed by conformity,
She emulated him flawlessly.
Her great critical apothecary,
He supplied her with stomach pumping and unconsciousness.
Everyone liked him though,
So she did exactly as he
Pills and pain until she could no longer be free.

Just as the needle penetrated her skin
Her hungry broken mind failed to spin,
The dose relaxed her body one last time.
She fell deeply into Death’s arm
He caught her in his deadly charm,
Icy blue lips and snowy flesh
He carried her through a world where her life was fresh.
“This could be you, reporting for duty
The first woman president, blessed with beauty,
This could be you, setting an example
The best mother
Something other
Than the toxic tragedy you have become.”

Deep regret murdered her grace,
And Death did the honors of fetching the lace.
He lifted the veil over her face and buried her down
Her life was short, born in a burial gown.