Deadened Lives
by Odin Roark

A helmet pierced,
another’s limbs lost,
most everyone screaming for help.

While far away,
a worrying wife, son, daughter, father, mother…wait.

Ironically…

For the war hawks,
destruction and taking of life
is the only way minions can accept their delusional peace.

History doesn’t change.

Why must there always be wars?

To line pockets,
return favors,
stay in office,
or perhaps just broaden
a smiling decision maker’s agenda.

I doubt such people have ever contemplated a soldier’s death,
or wheelchair permanency,
or his/her PTSD facing the grieving families.

If only we could parade such war mongers through the
bloody tundra of lost men, women, even the enemy,
allowing the bloody horrors of war to exclude their escape.

Nature’s humanity never ordered this,
nor did man’s survival demand it,
save for a limited number of privileged men/women around the world
wanting to become wealthier, more influential, and powerful…
at any cost.

Such are the many broken fragments humankind seems destined to replicate,
allowing deadened lives to never see the sky blue again,
the sunsets that will never promise the next day’s
sunrise that once lifted everyday spirits.