The Siren Song of War


In a darkened place, composers deep in human thought
move morbid notes along staffs of rhythmic measure,
educating the instruments of war, and once taught
they strike up the band, in infinite jest and pleasure.

The melody of conflict, beguiles, soars and confounds,
denying any attachment to mystery and muse.
Bleeding openly within meters limiting bounds
it can both transfix the soul, and the mind transfuse.

War excites man's soul, with brutal salted tears,
dressing patriotism in horror's bloody rags.
The whistle of missile the last sound a nation hears
razing populations, but raising wind-whipped flags.

Martial harmonies driving the steps of our dance,
propaganda we select and choose to die for,
wrapping soldiers in the lie of heroic romance,
mankind lives and dies with a taste for war.

©2014 Christopher Reilley
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