Arbelos

You led us all a merry dance, grandmasters of our future’s chess.
We followed on in blind belief that nations’ leaders must know best.
But no-one had the chance to speak, to influence the few.
Behind the shield of rationale the spectre of this terror grew.

Enola Gay a blameless pawn, her secret plan, inanely crude
“A million men must die today” — the blood price to abate the feud.
She spawned her love child on Japan — (that nightmare theirs alone)
The scorching fingers gouged men’s eyes and painted portraits in the stone.

The taste of blood once on our lips induces nervous fingertips
But bitter-sweet of victory relieves the pain of history
The war had lasted long enough, so no more guns or knoves
‘Though difficult it’s not too hard, to pay the cost with others’ lives.