Dark Days: The End of War

Dark Days

I was looking through an old notebook yesterday, and discovered a poem I’d forgotten I’d written. It’s called Dark Days/The End of War, and was written in 2006 at the height of my country’s collective madness. Due to the perennial nature of that madness, and in light of yet another in an endless series of gun massacres, I thought I’d share it. I promise to post something cheerier next time!

* * *

I weep for the children of Haditha
For the victims of violence every day.
And I grieve for our children with guns in their hands
Who should never have been placed in harms way.
And I mourn for the soul of my nation
Because I don’t recognize her anymore.
And so I light a candle in these dark, dark days
And hope that we will find the end of war.

I think of the people of Fallujah
Of the families that were forced from their homes.
And I grieve for our children with blood on their hands
For killing turns a human heart to stone.
And I mourn for our great Constitution
Because it doesn’t seem to rule here anymore.
And so I light a candle in these dark, dark days
And hope that we will find the end of war.

Because there’s murder and rape and torture
Being done in my name
And I know that I’m to blame
If I turn a blind eye.

Today I am a prisoner at Camp Delta
The condemned in the hell that men have made.
Five years on now, still no trial in sight
In the clutches of the free and the brave.
And I weep for the soul of my country
Because I don’t recognize her anymore.
And so I light a candle in these dark, dark days
And hope that we will find the end of war.
I hope that we will find the end of war.

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