My cruel mistress…A poem of war…

A cruel mistress is war, her vices complex,

The roar of cannon, the crack of bullets,

Crashing of clubs, the clang of steel,

The soft goo of brain, the gush of warm blood,

Cold eyes of dead,

Vacant stares of living,

The fray claims both, it’s reach ne’er ending,

The siren song heard once more,

A cry for blood, the shout for war,

The vicious cycle repeating,

New toys, new soldiers, 

New meat for the grinder

Same lies, same justification,

Anything to placate the living,

The siren song is dark, it sings of doom,

And we gayly dance like a bunch of fools.

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