Wild Verses for the Wild Times

Mortars, guns and bombers,
Whom are all these desp'rate things?
That lords are wreaking lands in battles
For what?
That is strange indeed.
Dum! Dum! Dum!
Drummers pounding, warriors singing;
Doom! Doom! Doom!
Men are falling, smoke is rising;
Strike with bores whose songs do damn.
Alas, whose god destines untimely end
For the sole enterprise of one
Who is much worse than others,
And who has not come even to himself?
At last, perhaps my friends,
Brethren in good days, foes in bad;
You are not lone in nightmares, save your sleep
For we have kings to bear and sons to bleed.
Scores we fought for scores of change,
And we have shattered all our foes and chains;
And bells did toil of freedom for some ease;
But tell me, when will trumpets sing of truer peace?

-19 July 2006