As I kneel to pray in the cool whispering grass
comes a feeling of anger at life’s bitter farce
of sweet innocent love and lives taken away
of war’s bitter wastage that claims many each day.

Gone is the bravado that took us to battle
all herded together behind walls like cattle
fighting an enemy, that die for a belief
yet who steal good men’s lives, like a vile common thief.

No glory facing a foe of cowardly acts
for all of their vile actions betray the true facts
none of the glory of yet facing a brave man
only pigs with roadside bombs hidden in a can.

As I kneel to take aim in cool whispering grass
I now know that life’s peace, itself is a farce.