Tread Not Lightly But Thunder Through

 
Watch the buildings fall, watch the people bleed; Gaza the battlefield, where the world watches on, and the tanks roll on through.

The dust blows, the cement fills the air, and people lie around bleeding; is this war justified?

How many on either side shall have to pay the price? Is religion being used to fan the flames of hate? Who really hates with such a passion? How much blood needs to be spilled to fill the void?

Leaders rile up their citizens, encourage their people to be martyred; let the leaders come forth, let them fight the wars.
How easily can a people be drawn into a battle of their masters?

Blood boils, tempers flare, and then all hell breaks loose.
Did a child ask to be born? Was it its fault that it stands in the way of advancement? What is the plan? What is the scheme? What is this all about?
How many who know so little, are being asked to give so much?

In their ivory towers do they sit, these leaders, these commanders; they dictate, they procrastinate, they instruct, they command; do they feel the heat of war?
Do they mop the corridors of hospitals? Do they see the truth of their actions?

Wars are fought from the warmth of offices, the people in power send out commands; is this how life is meant to be? Is this what we were intended for, to give that that is so precious away so easily, so that those who enjoy the power, can live it out before they are no more?

A pilot, a soldier, a man, a woman, a child; how are they differentiated? Who identifies who as what, and where they should sacrifice?
It is just a battle over turf; at loggerheads do they stand, frontiers do they draw, boundaries do they break.

What is it all about? What is it really for?

How many have to be lost, before the realisation of the futility of conflict, can be recognised?