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Nov. 16th, 2014 @ 02:15 pm Poem - The Gray of War
Current Mood: contemplativecontemplative
Tags: , ,
Battle lines are necessary in conflicts for rights and respect. The outcome is sometimes justice. Other times it is a comedy of the ironic. I was reminded of this in a shared meme that focused on the shirt worn by the scientist who landed a spacecraft on a comet. The shirt featured a semi-nude female. The shirt was designed by a female friend. The scientist was receiving condemnation for wearing a shirt that he SHOULD HAVE KNOWN would be harshly judged. It didn't matter what he did. It only mattered what he wore the shirt. They say he asked for condemnation because of what he wore. Irony yes? Righteous battle is difficult. Honorable battle is almost impossible. Today's poem is a parable about a battle in which pursuing the right leads to an horrific end.

The Gray of War
Poem for Day 054 – 20141116

I say back.
You say white.
Battle lines drawn.
Compromise gone.
I am in the right,
and you are in the wrong.

How did we arrive here?
Too much pain sustained.
Too many sleights imposed.
Enough is enough.
You will no longer be unopposed.
The battle has begun.

We will assume the enemy's ways.
It worked for them, it will work for us.
Their tactics were brutal,
our version is necessary.
Fire will fight fire.
Have no fear, this is only temporary.

Take no prisoners says the leaders.
Maximum casualties are guaranteed.
There will be no wounded.
Scorched earth will be the policy.
Our dead speak in united congregation.
We must exact your extermination.

The day ends,
our work is done.
Justice has been granted,
and we must have won.
So says mute testimony by the departed.
Sadly there is no one left to bury the dead.

I was black,
and you were white.
You were my enemy,
and I was yours.
Now we are no more, our blood is one,
and all that is left is the gray of war.

© 2014. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved.
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Shaman - Horse