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Poetry

God over death in his hand

In Flanders Fields,
Where boys become men,
We hand them a gun,
And say “All for Peace!”

We remember.

The innocence and all that is humanness gone in the vast gulf of power put into a young boy’s hand with a rifle. Overpowered by what men making fire making industry wrought, he becomes a man made in the image of flame and God over death in his hand. And yet he’s still just a man, a want to survive and be conscious of love and be known is all that he ever asks for. God and man become one in the fire at the end of his rifle as he sprays death and watches the man he destroys over fighting for sight of God-knows what land. It’s all over and done, a boy becomes man becomes God becomes pawn because he did what man wrought in his image of industry, God over death in his hand.