The barren land

The dry, red eye

Of the child soldier

Has no more tears.

All the tears he had

Were shed quietly

In the shadows

Long ago.

 

The eye can hold

Only a few drops

Of pain,

Or love.

 

This land

Was never so barren before.

 

Here,

History will not repeat itself

Into another cycle

Of love and hate;

There are no tears left here,

To rejuvenate the soil

Or its people.

 

***

 

The time to choose is near

Be prepared, the time to choose is near –

Join the marching armies, and have your petty loot,

Or stay back to hear the cries of the widows,

Or to see the blank stares of the orphans.

 

Be prepared to choose between rival greeds –

Who will play their games with gullible pawns,

Who will use the scriptures and the maps,

And the tanks and the shiny airplanes.

 

Be prepared, soon it will be treason to think –

Switch on the TV, read the newspapers,

Let hypocrisy, bitterness and falsehood

Prevail over sanity, over humanity.

 

Be prepared to be misled by yourself –

The eyes shall not see beyond the darkness,

The ears will hear only the thundering planes

And your heart shall not beat for love.

 

Be prepared to rage against the enemy –

And to send your sons to slaughter,

And to not know why it was necessary

To have all your dreams destroyed.

 

Be prepared to face your friends, and to choose

To kill or be killed. Those who shall let loose

The dogs of war, will be your only friends.

Be prepared to give the tests of your loyalty.

 

***