THE GLORY OF A SINGLE SUN
Steel cuts flesh beneath a burning sky,
Men fall like cinders, yet leaders vie;
Their mouths speak honor, their hearts speak greed,
Feeding on death, sowing the seed.
Rivers run red where children played,
The cries of the innocent by egos betrayed;
Flags drip blood where no mercy stands,
A monument built with trembling hands.
The drum of boots drowns out despair,
While generals lounge in their gilded chair;
Each life lost is a number, a pawn,
Their selfish hunger stretches on and on.
Bones grind beneath the marching pride,
Mothers shatter, widows hide;
The world roars not for justice won,
But for the glory of a single sun.
Smoke curls over shattered towns,
Grief wears a crown, terror wears a gown;
All reason drowned in the thirst to rule,
War is ego, sharp and cruel.
Yet in the shadow of ruin’s wake,
A truth emerges, impossible to fake:
No throne, no medal, no battle scar
Can cleanse the sin of ego’s war.
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