Warhorses on Thunder

Warhorses on thunder
Blaze the tyrant’s skies.
How many, how many
Innocents shall die?
The smoke lays down the valleys
The silent cannonades.
The men and children crying
The women’s bodies lay.

Oh silent wake of thunder
Oh warhorses ride!
Oh Chivalry, Oh Chivalry
How you have almost died!
The women are now warriors
To ban in silent throws;
With the hatchets wander
To cut down fleeing foes.

At last the canons thunder
At last the bullet’s flash
Has caused the stormy wonder
To pass by at the very last.
The bodies lay in hurdles,
The horses lay like dung.
Oh victory, oh victory
At what cost were you won?

At last the tyrants looked
And their eyes did terrify.
The bodies lay around them
And the tyrants raised their lies.
They had won the battle
They had won the fight.
With all races under
They put men to their plight.

At last the tyrants begged
To have God loose their life.
But the world they had bartered
The world lay its strife.
For the tyrants fought their wars
For there world’s right to stand…
That they would raise high
And rule over all the lands.

Man and woman fleeing
There were no subjects near.
The man who won the world
Had no one near to cheer.
Thus in desert valleys
In the sand he did lie…
God would not be sorry
That the tyrant could not die.

For the tyrant calling
To gain the world’s peers
He was the last man standing
In a desert land of fears.
For flesh was dung upbounding
The silent wars were near
The mind on them was dwelling
He was the last man on earth’s bier.

For all men lay in silence
All flesh was but dung.
The man who gained the world
At last had naught but won.

So this poet singing
Says to this his fear:
If I get nothing onward
I at least will have my cheer.
I will be in heaven
While the world fought its wars.
I shall be repentant
While the seas recede all shores.

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