We have called you out,
Though deafness reigns anew.
Silent shrieks of confused masses
Go unheard, though true.
We've named your name,
Though vanish we all do.
Seems few see who fills your coffers
When the first trumpet blew.
When the first one blew
They released the hounds
And panic spread afar,
The poignant tears of the abused remnants
Of who we really are
When the second trumpet blew
We were all at home,
Oblivious to the news
Of missiles, men and poppy seeds
And what we soon will lose.
No gallant attempt was conceived,
Though there were those who tried
To wrench the kidnapped freedom from
The men whose conscience died.
A wise man wrote but did not foresee
Where this path would lead:
"Where the secrets begin, the Republic ends",
And our children left to bleed.
(When the third trumpet blew it was in the Halls of Armageddon.)
Copyright 2012 by Andrew T. Durham