Before The Bullets Poem by Alfred Barna

Without an enemy on which to dwell
We focus within ourselves and as to why
So specters are created by those who quell
Our questions and decent that expose the lie
Peace was ever the enemy of those who control
Cooperation amongst people is never their intent
They are enraptured by chaos that takes hold
As their crooked dealings become crime well spent
As we are mired in addiction to ease the soul
They profit from our weakness that comes from need
They keep from us the parts that would make one whole
Which emboldens them more, and expands their greed

War is the racket, like none other run by man
It makes profit from fear, from protection, and counter attack
Any opposition can be checked, to keep with the plan
And treasures of poor are drained; the armorer's accounts grow in stack
The bodies are piled high all in the name of victory
Afterwards memorials built for mothers to visit and to weep
Saying we learned our lessons, and how this will never be
Yet the powerful grow more so; the poor's debt grows ever steep
Peace shall never come, for we are imprisoned in our mind
We must always ask the questions, and seek to answers in our hearts
Always we must look for the evils that are always lurking not far behind
Point to them with truth as a spotlight before things begin their cruel starts

We must ever be alert, looking for clues as detectives
Looking for the fuses that lead on to the powder kegs of war
Hold ever accountable to those we vote in as electives
Examining thoroughly, the reasons, and the sources of the sore
Realizing in the end, there are no politicians who have the answer
The solution lies within each of us, not in those whose words we hear
For truth is often never heard, for it has no forlorn romancer
Our media is polluted and we cannot expect for our vision to be clear
But often it is the lowly, that must go and sacrifice for those on high
They are the trumpet, yet it is the very air we breathe behind the sound
But now, it must be before the bullets, when it is, that we ask the why
When the earth is at level, and we stand upon solid ground