Sonnet: The Unwanted Sword
‘Tis thus a wicked century begins—
With slaughtered innocents—like all the rest,
And God is mocked by pious, bloody sins
The blasphemy of thinking murder blest.
Our people cry for peace—they bring us war.
We long for love—they bring us death and hate.
So we appeal, as we have done before,
To let the Lord of Battles choose our fate.
The way ahead is hard and long and bleak,
The sword is thrust, unwanted, in our hand.
But for our murdered children we must seek
To extirpate this terror from our land.
A grim and angry nation counts the toll,
And bids our waiting legions now, “Let’s Roll.”
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Lunch Break is NewsReal’s daily apolitical post. (We all need a break from this political stuff every now and then!) If you would like to submit a video (humorous/music/film trailer/intriguing/etc.), image, or poem for this feature then please email it to DavidSwindle {@} Gmail.com. (Sunday Lunch Breaks are often of a spiritual nature.) Please include:
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4. How you’d like your name published.
Also please keep it no more than PG-13 rated.
