The ghosts of war don’t only lie dead on the battlefield, they live in the hearts and minds of those we lead into war and send back home wounded mentally, emotionally and physically, and the destruction of families and towns we leave behind. The young children and fatherless families whose homes are in ruins, the ones we claimed to liberate but actually left orphaned by war. The women and men we send to fight the wars then forget about once they‘re home. Is it truly a victory when we see towns, cities, and families left in a world of bombed out destruction then ease our conscience saying we liberated them? They aren’t free, they’re devastated by monumental loss. You can’t bomb and kill for someone else’s freedom if your not willing to acknowledge and become accountable for the horror left in the wake. War is easy, costly but easy. Peace takes far more work but the outcome is far more rewarding. Don’t be anti-war, be pro-peace…..
Haunting blackness creeps amidst the home of the brave
Umbra’s of guilt and remorse obscuring many a lost heart
Bodies and appendages in blood-soaked jigsaw explosions
Troubled back at home worlds of survivors fall torn apart
Sent back whence they came like last weeks bad news
Shoved into halls of healing or lost attics to gather dust
Damaged oxide soldiers left to battle out in the street
Out so long in the rain their like the Tin Man they rust
Raison d’etre drowns in murky waters of battle
Perhaps the fortunate never return to burning scorn
Of the people they promised to lay life on the line
Who scoff while memories and souls are morbidly forlorn
The deaths of men and women sent into paths of destruction
Commune as the phantom civilians called collateral damage
War has no preference of whom shall own their sorrow
Nor who shall suffer from it’s murderous mismanage
Over the devastated fields of meaningless victories
The generals fragile smile glistened in the sunlight
But whenever the sun shines over innocence lost
Shadows of darkness are cast beyond the light
The defiant officer could sense his oncoming penance
Knowing one day his hollow smile destined nevermore
Chimeras and wraiths will gather in a punishing storm
Then he’ll lay beseeched amongst the ghosts of his war
Sorrow fills the cracks of the Generals once armored conscience
The strategic leader questioning his role of insanity
His legacy will be written in the blood of his martyrs
His guilt etched into his crimes of war and humanity
Then faceless apparitions will stand shoulder to shoulder
Held up by their loved ones grief both intense and internal
Past the homeless and misplaced wraiths of his mongering
The general alone to face his amassing guilt eternal
And the dark shadow from the caves and fields of his horrors
Fell across the floor and the walls of his now lonely room
A silhouette dangling from the rope of a misplaced destiny
A fitting end to the machines in which he created such doom
And the people will shake their heads and stare at the floor
When one takes their own life for the ghosts of their war