I would like to submit a revised version of my piece. I was unsatisfied with the placement of a few lines and some overall word usage, so I went back and looked at it for a while. Please read this one instead of the one above.
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Blood of Oil, Tears of Bullets, Hearts of Ice
War.
The greatest folly of mankind,
And the most potent of all, I find.
On oil and steel these countries dine,
So that they may push to the Volga or Rhine.
Nationalism takes hold, the people sing,
Awaiting orders from their "righteous" king.
To nations bordered and afar,
Guns, bullets, and death they bring.
War carried out, casualties mount up
As more men equip their bullpups.
Death and destruction
They pour into their cups.
Victory and defeat, both in sight.
Neither country fully right.
But each combatant continues on
In order to finish their horrid fight.
Over the hills and plains men walk,
Their eyes, focused, like hawks.
Professors of combat, their guns chalk.
To the enemy's capital for a lecture they flock.
Men, young and old,
For their country they are bold.
To kill and conquer they are told.
And so their hearts grow arctic cold.
Victory achieved
Or so they believed
For there was no winning
When families grieved
Maimed, yet no crutch
All that is gained,
Well, not much.
Widows and children, pained
Mothers and fathers, tear stained
War, but a bane.
On history a smudge is placed
Of which wishes to be erased
A time of bayonets affixed
An era of hostilities to never be fixed
Eventually forgotten, the memory is erased
Until one day an old minefield faced
War's fetid aftertaste.