The Dogs Of War

The dogs of war always seem to be howling, And fresh rivers of blood continue to Flow through darkened, foreign streets. Of such things Why do we say so little? And why do We do almost nothing to prevent these Needless killings? Only our screens reflect The silent screams. These days, I cannot sleep, As I'm plagued by bad dreams. What will come next Is anyone's guess. But I know that we Cannot go along with this much longer. As we move between the hawks and the doves, We should awaken to the fact that they Are rather alike. They share the same blood, Despite outward appearance. On us they prey. Although we are ruled by modern elites, A marked change in political weather, Will surely arrive like the wind. I can sense That the time is right. I await its presence.