The War Drums

The dagger’s hidden in the smile,

And the handshake chills my spine,

In my ears, a drum starts beating,

As timers tick to tell the time.

The greed and pride of politicians,

In waves as the applause roars,

And yet the drums keep beating,

The drums - they’re drums of war.

The rage inflamed within the masses,

The leaders redirect the blame.

The drums will not stop beating,

Like the crackling of a flame.

Then all at once an explosion,

The waves of shock ring out,

The drums are, louder, beating,

And the cries of war they shout

The blood of comrades splatter,

The bodies of brothers burn,

The drums, steady, beating;

They don’t stop or miss their turn.

The corpses of the fallen,

Soldiers, families, friends, and foe.

The war drum counts, while beating,

All their tombstones row by row.

The fallen aren't just the soldiers,

Innocents lie among the dead.

The war drums don't stop beating,

Until every street runs red.

The sorrow of a widow,

The grief of an orphan son,

When at last the drums stop beating,

Has anyone, truly, won?