I am a peaceful working man, <br />I am not wise or strong, <br />But I can follow Nature's plan, <br />In labour, rest, and song. <br /> <br />One day the men that rule us all <br />Decided we must die, <br />Else pride and freedom surely fall <br />In the dim bye and bye! <br /> <br />They told me I must write my name <br />Upon a scroll of death; <br />That some day I should rise to fame <br />By giving up my breath. <br /> <br />I do not know what I have done <br />That I should thus be bound <br />To wait for tortures one by one <br />And then an unmark'd mound. <br /> <br />I hate no man, and yet they say <br />That I must fight and kill; <br />That I must suffer day by day <br />To please a master's will. <br /> <br />I used to have a conscience free, <br />But now they bid it rest; <br />They've made a number out of me, <br />And I must ne'er protest. <br /> <br />They tell of trenches, long and deep, <br />Fill'd with the mangled slain. <br />They talk till I can scarcely sleep, <br />So reeling is my brain. <br /> <br />They tell of filth, and blood, and woe; <br />Of things beyond belief; <br />Of things that make me tremble so <br />With mingled fright and grief. <br /> <br />I do not know what I shall do - <br />Is not the law unjust? <br />I can't do what they want me to, <br />And yet they say I must! <br /> <br />Each day my doom doth nearer bring; <br />Each day the State prepares; <br />Sometimes I feel a watching thing <br />That stares, and stares, and stares. <br /> <br />I never seem to sleep - my head <br />Whirls in the queerest way. <br />Why am I chosen to be dead <br />Upon some fateful day? <br /> <br />Yet hark - some fibre is o'erwrought <br />A giddying wine I quaff - <br />Things seem so odd, I can do naught <br />But laugh, and laugh, and laugh!<br /><br />Howard Phillips Lovecraft<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-conscript-2/
