Your Poetry Dot Com - the empire strikes back

Let's all rejoice in the death of a prophet of doom
for the empire strikes back, according to the box in my room
a box that provides entertainment, opinions and scores
and glorious analysis from one side, on the progress of war.

A man set aside to take on the burden of hate
bought by the west in a war against a communist state
but he kept on fighting and didn't take note of the rules
It's callous, I know, he punched while we sat on our stools.

down came two buildings that symbolised world domination
thousands died in them, but in some states there was elation
Iraq was thrown in, what a joke, but we needed a war
now letters arrive with grave news from dark foreign shores.

Afghanistan, a tin can alley of bullets and death
where idle conquest tore apart the empires of both east and the west
but we marched in knowing technology would keep us safe
improvised explosive devices have killed many to date

young soldiers with dreams of their status as heroes in war
blown away driving on a road, booby traps on the floor
but ding dong the witch is dead that's what will release the pain
buried at sea to make sure a shrine is not built in his name

well shrines will be built in the folklore and minds of the defeated
it's tasteless I know, but I fear that the circle will be completed
now nervously, people will fear to visit other nations
reprisals will come, let's sit on our thumbs with frustration.

Our problem is not the enemy of our ethos and toil
our true enemy will rise through shortage, hatred will boil
meanwhile, the box in my room will continue to spout
keeping us all quiet until it's too late to raise a doubt.

This poem is Copyright © poeticjestix