Battlefields

"As long as there are slaughterhouses, there will be battlefields"
               -Leo Tolstoy

Bruised and beaten, in a cage
It matters not your look or age
Confined and cramped and far from home
With swollen joints and broken bones

You cannot play but you will feed
On their disease and gluttony
Folded up and then stuffed in
You’re never getting out again

You scream so long your voice goes out
The sounds I’d rather live without
What I would do so you could live
I’d never think a word again

I’d never write nor would I speak
I’d cut my tongue and pierce my cheek
I’d put a hole next to my head
I’d rather me than you be dead

There are too few who see like I
So suffer all of those who die
Throw the mass into the lake
Drown them all for the Dead’s sake

They’ll cut you up and dismember
(I don’t partake, I do concur)
I leave no room on my own plate
I won’t consume your death or hate

The ones of whom I am to speak
Are the ones they use as meat
My heart does break, for all, it mourns
Just as the wave does long for shore

The world is starving all while we
Consume disease and gluttony
I’d rather stand, but I will lie
They’ll be no death after I die

Remove my limbs and stuff my chest
Eat my skin and stop my breath
Throw my bones under a tree
The difference I can hardly see

They are my friends, you stole away!
Their lives are not for you to take!
A better choice, make with your life
They’ll be no death after I die