The Salute

Ashtray left full overnight

Both reek as strong as the cancer they might cause, but better that, than the wringing of the hands

A part of the mother is whisked away in the middle of the night. Her heart that has lain outside of her body from the moment of birth now sleeps in a pagan land with no mirth.

The country she trusted to protect her heart, now says it's expendable, and tries to cover that thought with words of praise, and talk of "The cause and democracy!

The politicians smile for the pictures and excuse the underlying cause of the war, with words spoken in a language we know, but yet do not understand.

Even Mr. Webster himself would pull at his hair, as he tried to make sense of the words twisted and snarled like the grain on a knotty pine tree!!! Words twisted to protect only a small number of people and deceive the masses.

A nation once founded, and grounded in God's Holy Law now forgets like those of thousands of years before and once again plays the harlot with the heathen and worships the black, thick ozzing god that creeps from within the earth.

Is this what is meant when it is said, "The desert will spring forth flowers!" Flowers of our youth? One's so tender, that the very sun they depend on for survival, withers them with her heat, and leaves them lifeless?

There in the black box lies the lifeless body, that once housed the mother's heart, torn beyond recognition by guns of war.

Next to it stands men with shiny buttons, and guns raised to fire a salute to the lifeless form within the box.

A flag all neatly folded is presented.

But Wait!

This is not the flag her heart died protecting. This one flies over the soil the mother trusted to protect her heart.

"Keep it!" the mother cries, "Just give life back to my child!"