by Padraig Nolan
His eyelids lightly closed.
Calm desert stars above the land
Of liberty imposed.
But see! A tear escapes his eye
And glitters down his skin,
This son of sinners, damned to die,
Yet blameless for his sin.
Who is this man on bended knee?
Does someone know his name?
A father, brother, soldier he;
His tragedy's the same.
Is he a friend? A confidant?
A lover or a son?
His shadows, too, his comrades haunt
When massacres are done.
And you the one that let him go?
Are you the one that said
In vengeance he might save his soul
To lay among the dead?
Come! Christians all! A call to arms!
A glorious crusade!
The Technicolor Fear Alarms
Shall be your palisade!
A call to fight! the zealots say,
As zealots often will.
It's traitorous at end of day
To quote, "Thou shalt not kill."
And He, our Godly advocate!
Who slays the Muslim Beast!
Great conqueror indominate!
He heralds "Truth" and "Peace"!
Do you hold stock in God above?
Then loose the feral roar:
"When we most needed Peace and Love,
Our leader gave us WAR!"
As loved ones die on foreign shores,
Will you accept this fate?
Will you let anger reign no more?
Or will you preach for hate?
And what of he, to death arrived,
Whom you have sent to kill?
If you don't bring him home alive
My friend, then no one will.
The gleaming jewel of a tear
Falls down on desert plain.
His death will pay the debt of fear,
His life will be in vain.
~
Copyright © 2008 - Padraig Nolan
Published: 1/31/08 · Author's Page · Next Poem