Colin F. Jones

~ God And War ~

~ 1 ~

Their eyes had many colours, those who came
To a land already lived upon to claim;
Destroying all that stood before their greed,
Turning lush green land to brown with their seed.
Their power was in the gun, not in their God,
Who lived somewhere above, not in the sod.
Enslaving black men as their cultures fell,
All those who would oppose them with their Hell.
They tore the totems from the sacred sites
Claiming their religions had the only rights
The rivers flowed with blood, and the women cried
As brave warriors against superior weapons died.
Yet still, across the mountains Eagles wing,
Where to the sacred ledges the spirits cling.

~ 2 ~

They built their churches but not one the same;
Each jealous of the other’s ambitious claim;
And gathered in the flocks from dale and glen,
And from the deserts, and the sward, and fen,
The Catholics fought with Protestants for the right
To change the view residing behind the plight
Of those whose cultures had survived for countless years,
But now were subject to vanquishment and fears.
What men were these, whose God forgave them shame;
To give them lease their atrocities to repeat again?
Who can defeat those who can do no wrong,
Who to such a merciless God claim to belong,
Who read each word to suit their constant greed,
From a borrowed book of ever altering creed?

~ 3 ~

There is blood upon the Bible: blood and gore.
And blood stains hue the righteous Temple door.
Screams echo from the pews as folk do pray
For another narcissistic, self satisfying day;
While they hoard the wealth of plunder and transgression
Avoiding shame through secretly heard confession.
They declare it brave to devastate a land
That has not the power to resist and make a stand.
For their God is great and sows in those, his seed,
Who would, dictatorial ethic over all others, greed.
For this they die; unknowing obedient souls
Who sacrifice themselves for another’s goals…
And who are they this one great thriving race,
With a kaleidoscopic, distorted, democratic face.