Anthony W. Pahl


We who have had the scimitar of eternity hanging by a thread over our vulnerable necks have felt the distress and uncertainty of life as we lay as sacrificial lambs on that altar of war. Survival after such an experience is a conglomeration of amazement, joy, and guilt – but above all, it is recognition of mortality and of the tenuous strength of those threads that determine our fate; whether we live or die. The altar is red with blood of the unlucky fortunate and that redness is diluted by tears of the lucky unfortunate… such is the lust and cruelty of the Gods of War as they toy with the Gods of Conscience!

Ah my friend… you speak to me with the hieroglyphs of truth!

A response to the poem, “The Altar of War” ~ ©Copyright February 28, 2004 by Lou J. Klaiber