Lesser Evils

From best intentions breed foulest ends
This was not his vision of the world
When first the plan was forged
When witness to those wrongs
To right, within his power
To fix a world in need
But in the fixing, in those details
He became their Devil
The means, he prays, are justified
But in the end
The moment betrayed
The vision perverted
Becomes the means
And all his engines driven by them
Lesser Evils, he preys anew
Is there such a thing?
Of Corruption, there surely is
Of Compromise, of course
And the world before, not once imagined
Now is realized
And he glories in it
All he once despised.

"Nor aught availed him now
To have build in Heaven high towers
Nor did he scape
By all his engines
But was headlong sent
With his industrious crew
To build in Hell"
- Milton, 'Paradise Lost'

In(Glory)Us

...digging trenches, hiding soldiers
fill them in, graves for my friends...

I remember when life was certain
when it was all laid at my feet
with the wind at my back
i could see for miles
the person i could be.

So where did the story turn on its teller
breaking fantasy with cruel reality
to take the innocence from these eyes
to mark this face with all these lines
An old man before my time
and what's worse
un-wise
just haunted and fearful
of the world beyond these blinds
where justice is forfeit
when we're all rewarded for our crimes
worn upon our chests
smiling through clenched teeth
because all we've done is to survive
and now it counts for nothing
our skills here meaningless
and year after year we walk
this parade of the living dead.

Where are the cheering crowds
to justify our sacrifice?
Where is the honor
in sending men to die?
Tell me
where is the glory we were promised
when the world for which we fight
is ashamed we fight at all.

We flinch to the roar of the big guns
Listen to the thunder of boots on this beaten shore
as lightening plays out across these once green fields
now mud beneath an endless grey sky
so calm above our cacophony
waiting for our storm to break
to water these fields again
to wash away the wounds we've made
the scars we carve into the earth
reflected in our skin
The angels weep
the things we've done
a pound of flesh
for each firing gun
Bone white trees
reach to the skies
like skeletal fingers
praying for a light
to break through
to kiss this scorched earth
to comfort it
even for a moment
that we might feel the sun on our faces
that we may wash the blood from our hands
that we might bury these memories
and the fields go quiet
as we savour it's warm embrace
and the hospital radio
sings me a serenade
of heart monitors and broken limbs.

My tomb now above ground
made of bricks and mortar
dodging neighbours like the enemy
their conversation gunfire to my ears
as the morning papers rain down like mortar shells
This suburban battlefield
more a match for me
than trenches in the mud
because you'd know where you stand
without a shadow of a doubt
But here i wonder
why i went at all
Did they deserve
to be saved
or to fall
And that uncertainty
that's the worst of it
where love is hate
where the world is its own end
and you can't know
how to live in it anymore.

So find me our glory
it's nothing physical
nothing that can be measured
Tell me your glory
the deeds that you've done
the battles you've won
So what of our glory?
It's shadows and dust
It's memories and lust
It's grief and it's loss
It's hope and it's trust
It's the sum of your parts
It's the glory in us.