As I promised in a couple of posts prior, some malaise-filled political poetry (not really war poems as they do not discuss war per se). The following two poems are a result of my thinking the world is headed for a reckoning, whether soon, or in the near or distant future. The time is irrelevant, for it will happen. A bloodthirsty race like our own is only meant to destroy itself unless a change is effected. Unfortunately, history has shown we are unable to effect change, hence my thoughts on this reckoning. And as someone who has studied history, I understand the need for justice, and sometimes, the need for revenge; however, because I understand it does not necessarily mean I condone it. My pragmatic side sees the historical necessity, my more human side has to comment on it. Both poems ask the questions: Where does justice end and revenge begin, and who will be left after vengeance is satisfied?
'One'
One.
Is that enough?
It should be.
Ten.
Do you require another?
One Hundred.
Perhaps a little more blood?
One Thousand.
Shall I start digging the graves?
Ten Thousand.
What must the price be?
One hundred thousand.
Will there be a reckoning?
One million.
Should we stop now?
Ten million.
When shall we reach an end?
One hundred million.
Can you still count the graves?
One billion... more.
Is that enough?
It has to be.
We are all in our graves.
'Zero Sum'
They wait for justice's balancing scale.
Expectant yet patient,
Perhaps even confidently assured...
Though the answer would make one wonder.
Scars run deep upon a troubled world.
Bitter and prideful,
Certain in their judgment...
Hearing only cries which burden their shame.
We pay service to advice unheeded.
Polite but arrogant,
Set in unalterable ways...
Moving toward our righteous end.
A troubled world tires of such strife.
Though expectant and patient,
Most certainly and confidently assured,
The answer... makes perfect sense
To those who balance the scales.
C.
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