When history’s sad lessons fail
to find their place in memory’s halls
and social constructs name their grail
progress alone, foundations fall.
Progress to where, and at what cost?
The road to ruin remains paved,
while freedom’s edifice is lost
and those who sheltered there, now slaves
caught in the rubble, cannot run
nor find the strength to turn away
the scavengers who’ve now begun
to feed on those still in their way.
The silent crowd, hushed by its fear
of losing face, of showing doubt
as these dark vultures draw more near,
seems to have lost the will to shout.
What use the rhetoric of peace
against such monstrous beasts of war?
What hope their wanton lust will cease
until dissent is heard no more?
When history’s sad lessons fail
to teach those with the sense to learn
what good are tears? They cannot quench
the fire that at our bound feet burns.
The means will taint the noblest ends,
make even Heaven reek of Hell,
if you would call such demons friends
and name their course your own as well.
Spit back their speeches, do not drink
the wine of victory they swill;
each of their boasts, weigh out and think
before you share in their foul kill.
Before you join their path, be sure
it leads beyond the bonfire’s glow;
and if they ask you for your vote,
remember that you can say no.
07 JUN 2005
