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poem about evils of war |
This is War This is a dimly lit room. Filled with a moderate sized group of young men and women. This is their orientation. To a whole new life and hopefully a short lived one. This is the beginning. They shall see it through to the end, they shall mark its end. This is where it began. Where the members of this room went from citizens to traitors; where they became the first heros honored by never being honored. This is when their leader walked in. To give them their last kind words. This is what he said: My Brothers and Sisters My compatriots I ask not that you lend me your ears, But your very souls. It is beginning We are the vanguards, The instigators, the visionaries The cannon fodder. The enemy we fight Is draws power from hypocrisy, Is fueled by its own oppression And they are in control. We are small in comparison We are weak We must be deceptive We shall steal control This Government must be cast off Perhaps truly for one of the first times, So we must appall its citizens, We must strike terror into their cores. History is written by the victor The truth is subjected It can be forced So let us create an ugly one. Life is precious And we shall take it. The enemies soldiers are merely doing there jobs and we shall kill them. The citizens and often innocent and we shall slaughter them. This room in which we stand is small, we are but a fraction Our army is larger and meeting everywhere We are the chosen. Those of us who die are not the martyrs for our cause Those of us who live Will become the martyrs for justice. This is war, And wars are not won by fair play War is Hell And we shall reign it down upon this land. What we do is necessary, But it is not right, we shall become known as Darkness’ spawn And when these measures win us the war We shall face our punishment. Justice will be done, We shall redefine revolution As the terror it is: As the absolute last resort. So do not die on our fields of battle That would be escaping We do not deserve that Soldiers honor, Our actions shall be rewarded with a traitors execution! So come with me, my Brothers my Sisters There shall be no medals, no procession Follow me to the gallows So that we can smile at our own hang man’s noose. |