Let us sense the grace to be humane with our souls and hearts over the taste of power.
The country we knew and have known is the same, thrusting her obdurate head high, holding flag and pride, pretending accord to God’s side.
The time is nigh of our humbled cessation. Our splendor crushed in the axis of history as awful and divine as shrapnel piercing the soul of a peacekeeper whose heart beats death’s drum and whose head stretches its neck out upon the stone.
with our souls and hearts
over the taste of power.
The country we knew and have known
is the same, thrusting her obdurate head high,
holding flag and pride,
pretending accord to God’s side.
The time is nigh of our humbled cessation.
Our splendor crushed in the axis of history
as awful and divine as shrapnel
piercing the soul of a peacekeeper
whose heart beats death’s drum
and whose head stretches its neck out upon the stone.
Copyright © 2006 mrp / thepoetryman
Ben Heine - Cartoons