Man has waged war with everything since the dawn of time. It seems like we were born with it. That itching, that hunger for conflict and for blood.
War! Man’s obsession with power, with control, with dominance. Words fall on deaf ears as egos swell and reason takes flight, as man makes his stand, proves his point. So every man rises to the occasion, to defend his beliefs, to defend his ideology and to defend his notion of right and the belief of his freedom.
Screams of pain, of stark despairs still sound like graveyard bells, amid the battering sound of shells and bullets, as they whistle past in atavistic joy, indelibly marking war’s bloody graffiti on the minds of men. And their goals will be enforced by the hot barrel of the gun and the ragged edge of the blade, as the reign of terror falls upon mankind and the tears of blood continuously flow. If there be any wisdom in diplomacy, man must surely find its meaning, before an ocean of blood spills and men have had their fill.
To spill more and more is the intention of war and since the dawn of time man has waged it, incessantly slaying each other and themselves, like primal, blood-lusted predators pursuing their prey. Like contented oppressors oppressing the long-oppressed. It was swords and treachery and lies and blood, and it was like we were born to it. War is the itching to be in combat, the endless eternal conflict, the Darwinian imperative, the headlong rush to kill and be killed. Peace was just a technicality, a paper hurdle that was swept aside without a thought. A human obsession that can only be achieved through the instruments of war, as no other species on this planet goes to war. Men carry around the poisonous ideology in their hearts, the tired, worn-out dogma that persuades and cajoles with a blood-red authority, the right in fighting for freedom, fighting for peace. But for who’s freedom and who’s peace do you fight – another mans.
So what does man truly want from the societies in which he lives? When does this incessant desire for blood take its fill and allows common-sense to precede the rush to conflict? Do we seek peace, or simply the shocking absence of the battering sounds and the clashing cacophony? After war comes a rebuilding, a backwards rebuilding to the stone-age is common, to pick up the flint and the stones and to sadly begin the vicious, circular dance once again. Or will we truly rebuild the broken and bleeding state and taste the heady brew of lasting peace, for if there be any better reason, let common sense precede.
Tears! Tears of women, tears of children and the everlasting, ever recurring pain of war blights man’s true potential. Rage eschews the peaceful course of mind, as men wail over loves or fortunes lost and pain trumps all sense of reason, only giving rise to the boiling rage of hatred and the seething of white-hot anger. And so the battering continues, a never ending battle, limited only by man’s colossal imagination. Not until the clarion bugle-call of victory is sounded on the dread fields of conflict, will man step back. Onward and forwards, ever forwards do we press, until what we fight for is lost or achieved, the cost being never weighed.
This never-ending, unceasing battle of man will flourish but no battle of meaning or ideology nor even peace, but one of uncontrolled passion. And so men will fight, until the very end of days and until they are drenched head-to-toe, in the blood of their enemies and the innocent alike. Life loses its glorious, inherent and promised beauty, as the eyes of ambitious men shut on life forever. So if there be any true meaning in a lasting peace for man, or any common sense to confirm it, to validate it and give it a chance, then soon it must come, as man is finite. There is only so much blood to spill, only so many women to widow, only so many children to orphan.
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