Poem By Lyre Bleus

Civility hath no door
Sanity’s obscure
through the fog of war

Beasts of war
growl and clamor
o’er an incurable sore

Trophies of war
bodies and gore
litter the streets galore

Yet from the empire's core
the drums of war
Beat for more

drunk on blood past stupor
past reason’s shore


Many return to familiar shores
From the horrors
Bearing permanent scars
of abominable war

Many lie where they fall
Later to be remembered
by the echoes of a bugler’s call
some, an obscure mound marked
by tin helmets on their muskets
some flown home in flag-draped caskets

Youthful enthusiasm and exuberance no more
But only as tales woven into folklore

A reward of tin medals for valor
or plaques mounted on a memorial in the city square
and wounded hearts of kinfolk and lovers

many will keep score
many will the tragedy deplore
and seek healing and a cure……….

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Other poems of BLEUS

Ghosts March

One of my anit-war pieces...

anti-war demonstrator terrorized outa me
to instead toe the line of the ruling party

Music Of A Vision.

If I could ever hear
The music, of a flower
Slowly unfurling to bloom
Blowing out kisses of perfume

Rainbow Dancer

O Rainbow
your soft glow
pure love, ‘tis glorious

Mighty Things

Dreams are mighty things
lurking within
filling out

The Irony Of Bloody Sweet

They spend more
huge budgets for war

excited about the prize