Tomb Of The Unknown Soldier

Tomb Of The Unknown Soldier
© Surazeus
2018 11 14

Retention of contempt distorts the truth
that blooms in rancid flower from mud of faith
because the road we pave with harsh desire
connects warring enemies with church spire.

Although each hero who falls in fierce war
could have contributed to social wealth
stolen from ancient temples without door
we honor them with statues on lone heath.

The homeless woman shivers in the cold
while the greedy clown plays king of the world
so we plant vegetables in muddy yard
which breaks the law against free garden yield.

We buy and sell our souls in marketplace
based on false criteria for the master race
who think their wealth can purchase royal class
while they secretly party to wild jazz.

The young boy clutching rifle in the snow
runs like the fox to become secret shadow
because he thinks he fights for liberty
since the cute resistance spy is so flirty.

Hunkered in top story of the farm house
the boy from Iowa shoots at each illusion
like the gang of boys who called him scared mouse,
then retires from law to live in seclusion.

Invading Normandy at dawn in rain,
the soldier leaps into the roaring surf,
and plunges past splattering bullets of pain
because his sergeant called him the lame dwarf.

Sulking alone in the posh hotel room,
the President tweets insults at the world,
but no one anymore fears nuclear doom,
or weeps at the tomb of the unknown soldier.