The drums of war sound dull in the weeping canyons of grief <br />Where the cries of the orphaned child echoes in silences deep <br />As the great eagle screams angered in its own wild disbelief <br />At the river of blood… and unclaimed bones layin' in a heap. <br /> <br />Now Father sun gathers himself to rest on all manner of weak men <br />Reluctant to touch what reeks of the evil fermenting in death's stench… <br />But none is excluded from the circle, robbed of redemption dispensed <br />Even the stars show hope thru prison bars for remorse in recompense. <br /> <br />Yet they ply their trade o'er the holy ground of our souls… flags unfurled <br />Bequeathing to dirt that which was destined to be the wind in a whirl <br />See now the huddled masses crawl closer, and in a tight corner curled... <br />In a fatal Titanic this time to greed's tsunami, a pebble 'gainst Scylla hurled...<br /><br />Little Eagle McGowan<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-drums-of-war-sound-dull/
