An Ode to War
Nations rise and go to war,
To settle all their ancient scores.
O’er religion, land and oil and greed,
Whilst in their young, they plant the seed.
That talk is cheap with no reward,
The pen is not the mighty sword,
And only those who stand and fight,
And face their fears to earn the right,
To have a voice that all will hear,
Will prosper on the battlefield!
And so the youth take up their plight,
Too young to know for what they fight.
Eyes that say their souls are dead,
Once laughing hearts now beat with dread.
And happy times have been dismissed,
Their names fill up the reaper’s list.
No more a time for song or dance,
The hope to live, their only chant!
Though Lords of War will fill the troughs,
With Dirty bombs, Kalashnikovs,
And serve up cold, to those who wait,
Their weapons made for savage hate.
They will not care the flow of blood,
That runs from all the murdered good,
As Missiles, mines and antitank,
Mean dollars bulge in swollen banks!
Let’s pray that God will show his face,
And smile upon the human race,
Then call upon his fellow man,
To stop the deaths the best they can.
But though the answer is quite clear,
Not everyone will want to hear,
That age-old line they’ve heard before.
It’s time for peace … make love, not war!
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