Bad Poetry: Autumn Edition

Soldiers for God
All these hatless heads lay strewn across my porch,
body-less soldiers like a carnage filled battleground
that I’ve already swept off twice
a war I continue to lose. 
More troops at the ready
to lay down their life for Mother Nature
to grow, to feed, to flourish or decay
for their commander.
Nine rounds fought,
nine rounds lost
to the Yang of the Universe
who feels my sore feet are
a small price to pay
to inhabit her lands.

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