Strife
#4 of Poetry
A little poem I wrote about a riot between police/soldiers and rebels, in the vein of the movie No Escape, except they're all anthros.
Strife
(12/4/17)
Fighters for freedom,
Stand in front of their homes,
Eager to greet them,
Government army of drones,
They stand in a line,
A few cowards will run,
Lives redefined,
It is time for the fun,
Glass bottles will break,
Fires burn in the street,
Your freedom they take,
Bodies litter concrete,
Tear gas in the crowd,
With batons do they hack,
Everyone screaming loud,
Masked faces strike back,
Blood and fur fly,
While they clash in the street,
Razor blade in the sky,
Dragging claw through the meat,
Fangs have been honed,
Gleaming bright in the light,
Tearing flesh from the bone,
Tails sway as they fight,
They won't be denied,
What is rightfully theirs,
It is worth it to try,
Enemies held by the hair,
Children running in fear,
Gunshots rip through the horde,
Hands pressed down on their ears,
Eyes shut tight from the gore,
But they cannot stop now,
Having clashed with the beast,
Sweat beads on the brow,
They're acknowledged at least,
No word of a lie,
The struggle is hard,
It's a good day to die,
Hands played every card,
Even if they don't win,
The battle at hand,
Bloody maws grin,
They'll soon conquer the land,
For they won't be chained down,
Tired of living in fear,
On freedom's burial mound,
It's the tip of the spear,
So they fight for their lives,
And their children's too,
Into lion's den dive,
For a world anew.