Wasted
#18 of Poetry
A poem the reflects my personal views on war in generalities. To sum it up, self-defense or a pre-emptive strike against an already hostile force are the only valid reasons to fight and die.
Wasted
(06/12/2018)
A generation hasn't gone,
Without becoming ruler's pawn,
Sent away to serve their need,
Fighting for their endless greed,
Hack and slash or shoot the gun,
For there is nowhere they can run,
Win the fight and save the day,
Or family by their graves will pray,
The rulers sit and eat a feast,
They couldn't care, not in the least,
They don't see the soldier's hell,
Or hear the ringing funeral bell,
They dare not part with their gold,
Beating hearts instead are sold,
The cost of war cannot be weighed,
And flesh is easier to trade,
So long as they are satisfied,
The peon's future is denied,
Orphaned kids and crying wives,
Left to suffer shattered lives,
Sitting in a field of stones,
Relatives talk to the bones,
The pain that follows many days,
Eventually will fade away,
Just in time to be reborn,
As new adults are bled and torn,
Dying for an indiscretion,
Or their leader's sick obsession,
Planted bodies feed the trees,
Revenants sway in the breeze,
Blood and iron is all they've tasted,
Cry for all the lives they've wasted.