| The Bugler's Blare |  |
| In war, the bugler’s blare doth fill the air-
To call to arms the victims vicariously chosen to be there-
Wake up grim reaper, the battle has just begun-
Organize your legions can’t you hear the gun.
The souls of mortal fools will fill the air-
To mingle in confusion among the bugle’s blare-
They need direction for they know not where to go-
Like the ones you gathered in your folds not very long ago.
It seems that these mortal fools have no concern-
To live in peace, each others needs n’eer to discern-
To spill each others blood is for what they yearn-
What barrier does prevent them not to learn.
And when the battle song is no longer sung-
And the count of battle dead is done-
Mothers will cry and beat their breast-
Fathers will n’eer in solace rest.
For death in honor cannot replace-
A hug of strong arms or a tender kiss on mother’s face. | By Claude Dhuet
Copyright 2006
Listed 11/27/2006 |
|
