Soldier

I must have marched the Appian Way
in triumph, for I hear the drums again,
and I am called by stouter hearts
to march among the men

who make their peace with death
and breathe it in the fight
as seeping blood might feed
their lust through the exploding night.

I want to feel the shiver on my spine
when cannon steel
tears into quivering flesh
before white flags appeal.

Oh yes, I tremble too
when sallow-bellied fools negotiate.
I want to be a patriot
before it is too late.
Lord, make for me an enemy
that I can love to hate.
~