The Art of War

Don’t speak to me of the nobility of war,
Nor of the need to engage in slaughter.
For to me such lies are no more than mere obscenities.

The butchery that is war breeds no heroes.
No glory, nor grandeur, nor immemorial memories.
War brings merely empty arms and an end to hopes together.

We must not suffer tyrants, you say?
Why, our own leaders smiled at this very one
And shook his hand in comradeship. As long as they needed him.

And now we’re told to regard as the bad guys
Those who go to their deaths in the name of god?
Who are now the heroes? Who are now the martyrs?

No. Do not speak to me of the nobility of war.
Nor of the duty to make anguish and gore.
Such words are merely lies. Mere obscenities.