The Ring of War.

The sadness of battle unravels
As fast as the hooded,
Cuffed and beaten man
Forced to talk chattering confessions
To appease the immediate rages
That stoke the fires of war:
And all this only lights
Another torch, another fight:
But shining the flames
into the corners what can we see?


In the corner of the box is man,
Knees up arms wrapped about himself,
Man is weeping, drop after drop,
Into the cold metal pan,


Through interrogations and manipulations
Poor man is lost in the circles,


And the ring of war
Closes ever more sure
About his blistering ankles,
Bound by icy steel shackles.


***