Poem: Swarm

Hovering drones, targetted missiles
19 year old brainwashed in green
Power growing from a gun barrel
The ravenous insatiable machine

The few decades, years, months
I have left
Will be dedicated to
No more Joe Blow living
Risks and threats from impending evil
Won’t populate my gratitude list
On Thanksgiving

Powerful winds, overwhelming floods
Disruptions of water and electricity
Climate-induced monster fists
Pounding down on towns and cities

I was never miltary but somehow it’s there
Instinctively in my heart
A general’s busy mind takes up my time
Along with simulations, plans and charts

The swarm is waiting on the horizon
Its menacing buzz spelling doom
Their high-tech weaponry poised to kill
A Grim Reaper janitor armed with a broom

I and my team and all those who care
Rise early in the morn, battle plans to share
Ready to fend off foes who dare
Try to f* us over but melt in our stare

Don’t look back on this time
As one of desperation or knee-jerk reactions
Survivors gather and plot like cornered animals
Fangs bared with defensive passion

~ Gunnar Våken