War
Published on June 18, 2020
War
A Sonnet
Behind the slumbering vast shape,
Its pleasant dreams a clamour did drape.
Of coming strife to its body and life,
Mounted upon a long scabbard and knife.
Its million heads moved by alarm,
In confusion blared arguments of bedlam.
Through this pandemonium a will
Weaved through voices with singular skill.
Each it touched it woke a little more,
Grew by coming conflict their future store.
Omnipotent will greater than cosmic chaos,
Moved immutably its every minute aims.
By the drums and bugles of war did wake,
A musing serpent slung on God’s neck.