No need to go to war.

If only we were wise enough to learn from the mistakes of others.



I have no need to go to war,
In winter cold or wet monsoon ,
Or stare upon the bloody gore,
Of battlefields, in bodies strewn.
I have no need to go to war,
Nor hear the battle sound,
Of those who went before
To seize the battle ground.

I have no need to go to war,
Nor hear the sound of dying breath,
Midst limbless bodies by the score,
Lying in silent death.
I have no need these things to see
Nor more stories, need I hear,
Of brave and fruitless glory,
To feel the stench of fear.

I have no need to go to war,
Nor watch grim death it’s harvest reap,
For countless souls have gone before,
That we might tranquil sleep.
We shall not your sacrifice forget,
For generations yet unborn.
Soldiers brave, their lives regret
We who follow, can but mourn.

Where battle was, now fields of corn,
And fruits exotic fill the store.
Cheerful we rise and greet the dawn,
Thanking those who went before.
In death they paid the final price,
In foreign field on distant shore,
Who dares forget such sacrifice,
Shall pay again, the price of war.

Uneasy Air

There’s an uneasy eerie foreboding in the air,
The scent of treachery and hatred, everywhere.
Talk of war, in papers and on the radio,
On television, in cafes, wherever you go.
Between the White House and United Nations,
Sounds of discord and soured relations.

Twin towers of freedom and wealth,
Brought crashing down by evil stealth,
While forces stand at action stations,
The air is black with recriminations.
The French and Germans play childish games,
Driving wedges through America’s aims.

Cowardly Bin Laden, hiding in his lair,
On an Afghan mountain, somewhere,
Hatching plots of hideous construction,
Teaching the arts of mass destruction.
Britain and America all ready for war,
France and Germany closing the door.

There’s a stench of death, hanging in the air,
As into the abyss, once more we stare,
Pondering the atrocities of zealots and fools,
Who have no time for books and schools,
No interest have they, in thoughtful debate
So wracked their minds, in rabid hate.

There’s a sense of hopelessness in the air.
Death surrounds us everywhere.
What price our follies past,
To haunt us, come at last?
How will we another day,
Make these nightmares, go away.


Post 9/11