For Fight's Sake

Volumes fill halls in Libraries you know?

Cartons and boxes collecting and sorting.

Nothing is as real. Nothing feels better; 

Than songs on the wind, than words in a letter.

Brave little cherubs battle for more: 

More of material, more to fight for.

So it all syphons down in a pool of Fallujah;

And purpose is spent, democratically speaking.

In the service of good while goodness is leaking.

Half just see what there is to behold.

Fifty per cent scream till the world feels the sore

Guarantees slide over the Teflon TV

And we all scoop it up; gullible ice cream.

Oh, they say, as I do

That we’re being taken along;

Being ridden so hard,

Can’t hear what is wrong.

I caught the last breath

Water seeped into its bed.

The dust that was fought for

has to value its dead.

Wrecked and abandoned;

Gone like a comet.

Echoes of blustering, bulging good days

When life badged on chests and all beauty was saved.

Nothing is nothing is all that is left.

Garrisons splintered, broken, bereft.

Defending the last patch is my futile call;

Let me pick up my pumps and dance at the ball.