Pages of history gathering dust in dark shadows lie
How quickly true tales of war fade and die
Were such records in the Temple ever read?
Of defending social values at the cost of glorious dead
Now our women too must face Mar’s ultimate test
Be quiet! Don’t argue! Our arrogant Canberra Suits know best
They’re tempting Eros to fight in the forward trenches
Mid misery, blood, gore and death with all its stenches
Clearly Canberra Gods of War are seeking political fame
Indifferent to consequences of what they see as a game
How confused our nation has become
in our short history in the sun
Torn from balanced views and reason
Tossed into the madness of killing seasons
Life’s values slowly lost to social engineers and the rest
See not the beauty of maidens at nature’s best
Converted now to screaming amazons trained to kill
Complete with modern automatic weapon to fire at will
Gone the scent, lipstick and charm
Now the rouge is camouflage cream and eager to harm
No more the allure and suggestive dress
But rifle and bayonet transforming life into a bloody mess
Sterilised is the maternal instincts for caring
Replaced by a culture in missions of death and daring
Grunting, cursing, slashing, killing but no time for crying
In a bloody close quarter arena littered with dead and dying
Blind Canberra Suits in haste to keep power do not care
For Gladiators or history lessons scattered here and there
George Mansford © October 2011
