Some Little Thoughts

Do not cry for the peaceful dead
For they sleep, soundly, in their suspended bed.
Cry for the living,
Who do not see their deadly deeds;
Cry for the culture
That plants the hateful seeds.
In fertile sod, innocence forgot:
Death may be beautiful,
But dying is not. 

Cry for this world, all covered in red;
Cry for the child, whose words will not be said.
Cares of the earth, unseen, unheard;
Cares of the mother, whose babe is unborn.
Weep for those, innocent wronged,
Weep for forgiveness: Cruelty unmasked ?unshorn.
Watch with horror as the body start to rot:
Death may be beautiful,
But dying is not. 

In a copse, keeping dry on little planks,
Men lay in serried ranks.
None cry, for the ashen, lifeless faces see not,
Their lives, having been taken,
By men whose Holy teachings
Could not be shaken
By Gods calling to wipe out the human blot:
Death may be beautiful,
But dying is not.