To take this cup
Amidst olive branches offered
Is not spirit
The betrayal was coined
By man before
The last ditch
From Devil's Den
To Danang
His blood
Was drunk
Wheatfields
And elephant grass
Have held their ground
Unable to redeploy
Rooted in their graves
Pixels now defoliate the desert
Tenting on the old campground
For crusaders without a cross
To shield their bribe
Our better angels weep
Helpless without their horns
For reveille is past
Tom McGlynn
copyright 2013
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