Colin F. Jones


A molested woman in a storm drain lies,
deformed and murdered by a soldier’s knife,
and by the smoking hut an old man dies,
near where he saw them butcher his dear wife.
A mongrel dog, with skeleton showing through,
sniffs about a babies shattered head,
and by the trail there are another two
with expressions fixed in horror, cold and dead.
What savageness is this that the modern man,
retains this evil though he claims his Lord,
condones his actions though ‘tis not his plan,
to rid the world of tyrants with the sword.
‘Tis not the will to kill nor the way it’s done,
It matters only that the war is won.