
A short poem about how those who can end war with words, hide behind those who end it with weapons.
Rated: Fiction T - English - Poetry - Words: 140 - Reviews: 2 - Published: 07-09-12 - Status: Complete - id: 3040101
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The War Cry
Blood become currency
Instructions become taint
Crowd becomes truancy
Sergeants become feint
The King wants not to die
The King wants not to fall
So he looks on with his eye
And hides behind them all
He sits in his chambers
For the sounds of war to end
And tries to remember
The wounds he once had to tend
The doctor, the surgeon
To heal those who are stung
The blacksmiths, the workers
To make the arms, the war has begun.
The scream and shouts of men
Once living, no longer still
One then two then ten
All falling, without coming ill
The reveille has sounded
The soldiers march in the rain
They have so far once been hounded
But the King cries "Die for me again!"
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