The Two Calls

Hark, Hark! The bugle call rings clear
And men rush forth and die
Fighting for principles they call dear
Answering the bugle’s cry
Bloody war has come again, calling from their homes the fighting men
Scorning the womans sorrowful sigh
Urging the brave to die

And yet they call it glory, this lust for power
This crave for greatness of the passing hour
This greed that despots all possess
The name of honour, clad in wickedness.
A word against that name, and with an angry sigh
A mass of warring men, fight, fall and die

Someday a bugle call will too be heard
Resounding long across the valley
The call of THE CREATOR, whose eternal sway
Destroys the tyrants power
And ends the day.

By William O’Donnell

©2013 The estate of William O’Donnell (Chiswick)