Sonnet:
War Lust of the Hun
To the Hun, lust of conquest and fame,
With their monstrous armies and blinded rage:
Not much different to this modern age,
Nor for the cities given to future flame;
For a changing world, we find the heart the same.
Thus, we live with a ruthless heritage.
There is no grace in the wars we rage
And to God Almighty, a deathless shame.
Lo! This is man’s perfidy—that he shows,
Gazing up to God, how far his ego strays, —
From the purpose of love and brotherhood—
Deep and deeper into Tartarus he goes:
Long are his paths, yet with no delay,
Now held by Hell’s taut gates, for brute hood.
No: 4480 (7-20-2014)
