Sumptus de Bello
(Cost of War)
by Don Anderson
"Just war' with horny hands from hell
All God's good reason does dispel,
And wrests from human minds the form
That holds them well, worthwhile, and warm.
Many never find their way back home;
Some still rot beneath a foreign loam,
Or lie under an oceans waves
No wreaths to decorate their graves.
Having given all for "God's good fight,"
Which will matter not in time's short flight;
Soon conquered land will be "just ground,"
Where only churning worms abound.
Years later we will check the score,
To ask then what the war was for;
As we have barbeques and no parades,
And with old foes have open trade.
Yet unstirred, in quietus, will lie,
Those whom for glorious cause did die;
And wanting hearts, still empty, break,
With a pain no balm can ever slake.
Yet now we proffer with feigned verve,
"It was an honor to have served."
Come next plight, though, we must quest -
To waste not on war the country's best.
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