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As the wars wore on, the bodies were counted. Generals and privates, ideals undaunted. Faces with eyes unable to see, Turning away, fearing to flee.        *And the drums rolled on        Boom      Boom      Boom* Wrinkled old men cursing the wars, Squatting on knees unbearably sore. Starving young children, bellies distended Praying for peace when all wars have ended.        *And the drums rolled on        Boom      Boom      Boom* Windows and doors broken and boarded. Vision of riches jealously hoarded. Windows and doors bordered in gold. Words of obscure meaning by liars are sold.        *And the drums rolled on        Boom      Boom      Boom* Proud tall trees, symbols of might Stripped of their beauty, alone in the night. Spiders in holes, hermits in caves Escaping the wars. But who will they save? *And the drums rolled on Boom Boom Boom* Plague in the cities, stench from the rot, Kills all the honest, feeds who are not. Churches and parks forgotten and lonely. Beauty and love, uselessly homely.        *And the drums rolled on        Boom      Boom      Boom* Dancing in graveyards, singing of wealth Satan’s disciples bring only dark death. Rising from evil, blackening the sun, Clouds of the wars that can never be won. *And the drums rolled on Boom Boom Boom* Black hooded monks ringing the bells, Tell of the death, the hatred, the hell. The four horses speed on, their hoofs tear the ground; Their riders are grim -- their destiny bound.        *And the bell tolled once.                Gong                and                       stopped.*
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Jul 27, 2016
Jul 27, 2016 at 9:51 PM UTC
The Plague
As the wars wore on, the bodies were counted. Generals and privates, ideals undaunted. Faces with eyes unable to see, Turning away, fearing to flee.        *And the drums rolled on        Boom      Boom      Boom* Wrinkled old men cursing the wars, Squatting on knees unbearably sore. Starving young children, bellies distended Praying for peace when all wars have ended.        *And the drums rolled on        Boom      Boom      Boom* Windows and doors broken and boarded. Vision of riches jealously hoarded. Windows and doors bordered in gold. Words of obscure meaning by liars are sold.        *And the drums rolled on        Boom      Boom      Boom* Proud tall trees, symbols of might Stripped of their beauty, alone in the night. Spiders in holes, hermits in caves Escaping the wars. But who will they save? *And the drums rolled on Boom Boom Boom* Plague in the cities, stench from the rot, Kills all the honest, feeds who are not. Churches and parks forgotten and lonely. Beauty and love, uselessly homely.        *And the drums rolled on        Boom      Boom      Boom* Dancing in graveyards, singing of wealth Satan’s disciples bring only dark death. Rising from evil, blackening the sun, Clouds of the wars that can never be won. *And the drums rolled on Boom Boom Boom* Black hooded monks ringing the bells, Tell of the death, the hatred, the hell. The four horses speed on, their hoofs tear the ground; Their riders are grim -- their destiny bound.        *And the bell tolled once.                Gong                and                       stopped.*
1969 or so, at the height of the Vietnam war, but it could have been written today or anyday.
#war
scott-sinnock
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scott-sinnock
Jul 27, 2016
Jul 27, 2016 at 9:51 PM UTC
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