talking of war

 talking of war

go away

but it will not of course we

have seen it in the cinema and enjoyed

the victory that is was ours always

the actors alive again to die another day

but oh when one’s finger almost touches

the sticky bloody facts

and turning every corner is but a selfish act

and where oh where can we hide from this 

annoying newsy newsy confusy thing a me there

i have said that an apology is never enough

to assuage a torn heart in two or three

or how many in the mass grave on the road to in or out

of the lack of trust in forensic propaganda’s hand

the pen of many hands are torn every which way and that

is the fact we cannot hold and cannot rest this day

although we wish it would go away go a bloody away

and every sacrifice is a thread held in our hands

and i want 

to but what can i do 

i can’t for certain say

now the need of leaders true of statesmen who can carry trust

for truth is the first casualty of war

isn’t that what they said all those years ago

for i want to believe in a fact and strive until time’s end for

the arrival of tomorrow’s peace nailed hard and fast to the roof

against all future storms that are and of course will be again

but oh the pain of incredulity is hard to put away

my tears are slow to come but when they flow they will stay

as a crusty salt carapace on a burnished hand

but not now i say for it is too soon to know the truth

but the one’s who are left alive will know

the dead were not alone

they did not die alone

interred in humanity’s blood stained flag

our minds the open grave

for if the right one don’t get you the left one will

do you know 

do you know

even as we die inside 

outside we are burning the last will and testament 

of our carboniferous mistake

nihilism seems to fit so well

that it seems so apt to dwell

on nothing ever found in nothing’s end

will ever be a just cause for any long lament

at the last footstep’s end

no one will know

how we cried today for yesterday 

and for tomorrow 

bloody hell