Friday, April 2, 2010

Sonnet #30

"This is the Captain, this is a strategic launch!
Man Battlestations!" rings around my soul,
And rousing me from sleepiness and slumber,
Demands that I assume my chosen role.

We rise up, like a beast, from ocean’s bottom,
The hatches open, doomsday is at hand;
We push the buttons, random pick the numbers,
Then send the missiles after our command.

And afterward the afterword is zero…
There’s no one left to tell us how we sinned;
We’re sole survivors, that makes us the hero,
We build the world anew and make amends.

But how can we ignore, erase our wrong?
We pay the price; are we the best, the strong?

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