A pair of ragged claws

I refuse to fight, not for liberty, or yet for freedom's ignoble cause.
But should I find myself perchance, upon a borrowed shore of antiquity
Time will have transported me to land upon some propituary plane
Not to have been there before, but, simply to abide with perception
That destruction often precedes a liberator who bays for freedom
Freedom and liberty being a pair of discordant doves that are released
to soar yet above the clouds of war and discharge the tears of peace
Upon waves of misery crashing all around ragged cliffs of extintion

Whilst freedom struggles then emerges, from liberty's grasping claws