Will we sing our war songs now
--vengeance gospel, writ in bloody steel--
As the crushing weight of this time's turning
falls on my unsteady shoulders?

Will you sing of Christ and sacrifice
while I watch the world tumble,
crashing down to bury my generation?
Our child-selves lie dismembered under rubble.

Will we sing of freedom now
as the heavy death-mill grinds
--irresistible, unstoppable--
Can't you hear it too?
The song IT sings is the only truth.

Will we sing our war songs now?
What choice have we?
Come, I'll sing them with you--
but there are tears in my eyes.

This poem performs well in the 13- to 16-year-old and 30- to 65-year-old midwestern female demographics.

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