c. 2026 Rod Ice
All rights reserved
(8-26)
World war, the inevitable yield
Of old men competing, with surrogates in the field
Missiles fly and blood is spilled
A testament resounding, shrieking and shrill
I might once have had a chance to escape
But there’s a wolf at my door, and the hour is late
Conscription decrees that I will serve
To see that the prominence of a pawn is preserved
It’s coming ‘round again
This curtain call at the end
World war, the history we forgot
My father was a boy when Europe turned hot
Only ten years old as Poland was invaded
After promises of peace were negotiated
The lust to conquer has remained intact
Advisers and pundits perched to attack
From seats of power, there is no cause to fail
But the view of a soldier is sharper in detail
It’s coming ‘round again
This funeral for a friend
World war, the bane of peacemakers
Blotted out by the glare of fumblers and fakers
They lob stones with glee, as enemies are felled
Until tasting the broth cooked up by themselves
An ugly repast, boils in the cauldron
A brine that bubbles with what cannot be undone
The sins of our leaders will outlive their reign
And we will inherit a prescription of pain
It’s coming ‘round again
This call for knees to bend
World war, an event most auspicious
Which the vultures believe to be most delicious
Feasting on famine, a prize for the rest
A sword brandished bravely, to win the contest
If there were more, sane minds to concur
Perhaps we could find a path to defer
Yet with the oration of heroes on high
We are reminded of nobility for those who will die
It’s coming ‘round again
Seeking allies to befriend
World war, the inevitable gift
True believers, at the edge of a cliff
Flesh in flames, and temples on fire
Patriot games, a coffin for a quagmire
Eternity brings what the living were spared
While the echoes of yesterday speak of despair
Lungs go flat, and faces turn pale
We knew all along there’s a trick of the tail
It’s coming ‘round again
This boast not to bend
World war, a conflict of creeds
Taking old opponents out at the knees
A lobbing of lead with the purpose made clear
No patience for detractors, ruling only by fear
Righteous and ready, with a rod and a staff
To play the role, of a pontiff in a peaked hat
Gesturing over this flock with remorse
As the habits of mankind run their full course
It’s coming ‘round again
This making of amends
World war, not difficult to see
Even when beheld from a mound of debris
Detritus dumped from a sacrifice made
By paupers and beggars, buried in their graves
Chest beating is heard, throughout the land
With a scimitar of justice, taken in hand
Silence in the aftermath, quiet and long
A whispering tribute from those who live on
It’s coming ‘round again
On glory, we depend
World war, the story foretold
By ten thousand years of fungus and mold
A creeping crown for the ashes to keep
A shroud of indifference by souls fast asleep
Blindness and rot are the qualities of those
Who seek to glorify the emperor’s new clothes
They prattle and prance while in the parade
And march in lock step with vessels of Kool-Aid
It’s coming ‘round again
This is a message to send
World war, the alignments are known
An axis arranged by couriers between thrones
Nations that tread upon serfs in reserve
A gloating over grading, given on the curve
Deals made in haste, a foreign exchange
Judas Iscariot, with his sack of loose change
Duped and debased by a decree, most tyrannical
Servants will high-step toward the inevitable
It’s coming ‘round again
Much currency to spend
World war, a peace made on bones
When pillaging armies return to their homes
The appetite for crimson has been satisfied
Now there is rote rest from the ebbing tide
A deep breath clears what fate has amassed
While school children learn of such tales in class
Old women will grieve for daughters and sons
As tributes confirm that the campaign was won
It’s coming ‘round again
The circle has no end
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