A bloody battlefield when all is done.
Piles of humans, not other evils.
Dying, bleeding men, who fought for no end.
The war is over, but they can’t go home.
A body bag and a coffin await.
Fierce struggles punctuated with no rest.
They die exhausted, the meaning of “all.”
Everything given, and so much taken.
The life of a hero not respected.
Forget cautions or selfish behavior.
The pugilist with no fist, just a scream.
A battle cry, and the momentum shifts.
When human desire outweighs the fear.
So much loss. Everyone’s dead. Must drive on.
Winning battles for the crown, the homeland.
For politicians who sit on their thrones.
And never blink an eye. Angered at loss.
Send them to fight and war would be prissy.
A slap in the face. Insolence. Disrepute.
Pulling hair. “Oh no you didn’t.” Not war.
Who better to sacrifice than the poor?
They fight because we give them nothing here.
That we may have more and fulfill our greed.
Intolerable loss. And for what? This?