Dennis Lange


The War Gave Birth To War - Poem by Dennis Lange

The World War that we sadly now call One
Began with glee from those quite innocent,
The very ones that old men who are done
Send forth as babes to bear the bloody brunt.

The war was grand; it was a glorious thing
For men as knights to go forth and be bold.
And then, great honor due, the praise would ring,
Adorning men like jewels and precious gold.

The tempting siren, Glory, thus deceived,
And millions died, their final whispered cry,
And that of those who were of them bereaved,
Was agonized, a wailing 'Why? Oh, why? '

And when a devil like a hateful horn
Rose out of that same reddened battleground,
Because of sanguine weight of war still borne,
They shuddered at the sudden saber sound.

The Great War was a wound within the mind -
A generation's blood was yet to dry;
The hearts still grieved; the teeth would sometimes grind -
France and Great Britain, bitten, both were shy.

They ran away from war in full retreat:
Versailles, a cracker broken into crumbs.
At Munich, pen gave land as if defeat,
And Chamberlain declared, 'We've stilled the drums.'

But Hitler swallowed Poland in a bite
And France was like a feather swept away.
The nations backed from war into the night,
And backed so far, they backed into its day.

Topic(s) of this poem: war and peace


Poet's Notes about The Poem

I wrote this poem after reading Churchill's 6 volume epic on WWII.

Comments about The War Gave Birth To War by Dennis Lange

  • David Wood (8/29/2015 10:14:00 AM)


    Both wars were awful. You have a good poem here. So many things to write about in war. Have a look at my 1914, Sonnet 90: The Glorious Dead and Hiroshima Remembered. Thanks for sharing. (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Saturday, August 29, 2015



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