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Graham Donachie's Stories
WAR 2002


In the deep dark depths o’ a brimstone well
‘midst the stinking stench o’ a fiery Hell,
sat a gurglin’ demon o’ the vilest kind
wi’ the vilest happiness upon his mind.
An’ this cur-sed demon wi’ an evil grin
relished the thocht o’ the latest Sin,
o' the humankind far above.......

Wi’ a slimy rub o’ clovens, he
laughed at the thocht o’ the human fee,
for the wagin’ o’ War it’s a michty price,
Nae chance for the cock a’ crowing thrice,
Nae gaein’ back for the choice o’ Pride
an’ the thocht that God’s upon your side
is arrogance indeed....

On the silken throne sat the naked chiel
he was ca’d the Prince or the ebony Deil.
He was beauty bad he was fair o’ face
he was angel eyed, and he fell frae grace.
He had chosen Pride and he braved his fa’
and the chosen few had answered his ca’
likewise the realm o’ mortal men...

Lucifer laughed and danced wi’ glee
and howled at what his een did see.
Upon a desert made o’ sand
In an arid place they ca’ a land
the spilling o’ a red blood gush
the silence o’ a nations hush
when hellish fire consumes.....

He kent that War wad hae it’s say
An’ in the cry o’ Love’s decay
Like jackals an’ the dogs o’ war
Wha feed upon the bludie glaur,
Devour reason for to sate
Their need for death and lust for hate
They unleash Satanic help...

Sae Nick he sat upon his dowp
an thocht on men aboot tae cowp,
ithers o’ their kind intae his sluice
the bloodless faced bereft o’ juice,
the bonny bairn wha’s nae been born
the many deaf tae Gabriel’s horn
the blind wha niver want tae see....

This was aince again his hour
He felt his demonic sense o’ power,
an that fool God up in the sky
wad shite himsel’ as passing by,
ignoring his son’s New Testament
As aff tae War they marching went....
Tae Hell...but no’ Back.........

Sae cam ye all..for Bush or Blair..
A’ ye auld ghouls that dinna care,
Wha ca’ for war an’ waving flags
Ye soulless, dugless, harpy slags,
Kiss the Deils ever proffered arse
Your Christian concerns are but a farse
What ken ye o’ love ?...

An a’ ye sojer lads wha dare
tae tak the gun withoot a care
tae flee intae the jaws o’ hate
the ghouls o’ War their pleasure sate,
Ye’re souls may noo forever rest
as fodder for demonic pest,
wha chew your balls wi’ sharp toothed pleasure....

......................

In a fluffy far-fetched heaven, a God lay upon cotton couch..
He was a sad faced God....
The humankind who said they Loved him....did’nt..
They went off again to War.....
They were bored by Peace.......
But they believed.. He was still on their side...........
............................

Lucifer.. he languished on shit covered stool,
an' slavering snot an’dreepin’ drool
his cards forever trumps an’ high his goals
his lust for fun..he’d hae his souls.......
Whaever won this earthbound War
When they passed through the bloody haar..
Were his tae keep.........forever.........

Graham...Sept..2002


Read other stories from Graham Donachie