Unto Dust

Unto dust,
will they rust?
those symbols of lust
of blood greed
that exceeds,
all bonds of trust.
Greed for ‘great’ deeds
for the glorious scenes
of war, death and dying over which Galleries compete,
and people
who delete people,
over tools of death
fight for the parts, whatever’s left
the ‘levellers’ ‘peacemakers’ life-taking steel
grant a sense of power all can feel
supremely runs the course of this tale
for, in Man’s end, all weapons fail
man’s friend Earth would be stronger, hale
if the wisdom to disdain armed discord prevailed,
if Mankind saw truly what War’s path entailed,
flesh-splitting steel would thus
gather rust,
eschew by the enlightened, to return unto dust.



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