The World's Greatest Cynic

He kisses his wife, he kisses his kids: Goodbye little ones
I go to keep you safe at home
I sew the seeds, that freedom needs, with necessary war
And liberty's path is paved in bone
A breastplate, a sabre, shanks encased in steel
A hell hound's helm in static howl
We go to bring a savage folk nobility and culture
Of us, they should have never run afoul

The raw recruit sits next to him, and listens to past glories
Upon the galley under sail
Soon enough the reach the land of plenty, where he knows
Civility will once more fail

And he swings his sword
The finely honed edge of lust
A tool in a greater war
Led into the wilds by trust (a soldier does as he must)
(Descent fueled with disgust)

Cloven skulls
Shattered teeth
Blood surrounds him
No means of retreat

Fight

Fight against the heathens that endanger his life
Bringing progress to barbarians and leading them at sword-point march
Making of his weapons and his rage, a gift
A gift they don't deserve in a classroom not their choosing
A stern lesson may be the only one they learn
Submission is the only way the tutelage is ended
Hegemony: we do it to save our lives
Our methods are superior and clearly we deserve to rule

Can't control, battle thirst
The thoughts slow, doubts dispersed
Rationale, irrelevant
Peace does not, even exist
The soldier becomes the world's greatest cynic
He's seen it all

But perhaps there is intrinsic value in life
It just could be diversity provides the spice
But what would he do, oh what would he say
If he looked at the faces of the foes he had slain?

The thought consumed him
He could not let it be
He probed at it as if it were a wound
He burned with curiosity
His mind conjured an itch
That, if not scratched threatened to implode
It came upon him after combat
A feeling like the one
Many men get as they kill, with a hard-on
It lasted longer than he thought possible
He felt like a starving man trying not to eat a corpse

And he reaches his foe
Undoes a chinstrap
Removes the bassinet
Unveils a child!
A boy not much senior to his own
He senses the parallels
Grasps the context
Loses his sanity which is gone forevermore
The face, so beautiful in death
Pain recedes
Serenity is gained to continue past life
Children! He'd been killing children
He'd never pondered on the youth of his profession
Compared to them he was an old-timer
Despite the gulf between them
His and theirs acted the same
Sending boys out killing boys with grown men overseers

He knew now
What he'd done
Was killed the son
Of everyone

If he changed
If he repent
He'd be caged
By his government

For the soldier is sacred
But the objector is hated
And shunned
Until the war is done

His whole life, made no sense
Deep ingrained, violence
Only the war
Before we even stood erect