THE LAST SPIN

All war is over the second it begins

History records that finite second of cessation

All war begins merely to end

All war is the end-game unto itself

What I write is heretical

The truth always is until it outlives the lie.

 

All war is an over-run

All war is an over-draft on someone else’s Life

All war is always in somebody else’s face, not yours or mine

All war is an indelicate fact of Life

If you’re prepared to surrender never go to war.

 

Wanted:  one true hypocrite who will step up to History’s worn-out plate

A reliable general who knows the truth will never set him free

A syncophant master-sargeant convinced that might is never right and it’s his only path forward

A lieutenant corporal who never took religion to the battlefield and never found it there, either.

 

What’s Life got to do with it

What’s freedom got to do with it

What’s liberty got to do with it

What’s the pursuit of happiness got to do with it?

 

Problem with all war

Finite few pay an incalculable price relative the enormity of the benefit to the world writ-large

That never engages

War costs lives

Tell me that jackpot debt is always worth paying

Debt of service, Debt of gratitude.

 

Tale spinners bring on the burn bins,

Incinerators and disintegrators

War ain’t what you think it is

It’s mankind’s X-ray for a dis-ease not yet curable

War is always a pyrhhic victory in search of Sankalpa.

F.E Scanlon

31 August, 2021

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