They were called
The Greatest Generation
Those valiant souls that took up arms
Against the evils of a confused world
They held fast against the vortex
Of bombs and blood, for years
Each day waking to a war
That conscripted everyone
And thus are they exalted later
Decades of thanks for their sacrifice
Later, to the hours we are trapped in now
Once more have our hands been forced
To sign up in a new campaign
Less visible, less violent and leaving
Intact home and hearth, but still
A Sword of Damocles above us all
And passions are shared with those
Who were Great, we long for rest
And an end to the fighting, to ease
The darkness poisoning dreams
They moaned too, they saw not
The necessity, or heard the other cries
For help to make the burning stop
But they fought on, and paid for peace
With their blood
Yet descended are we who fight now
This new demon, and our price is
Much the easier to bear, the need
For sacrifice great but different
And for a briefer time, we will not
Endure several winters in husks
Blown out by bombs, we will not have
A choice to make which mouths to feed
Which children to clothe, and which to tell
You must go hungry today, that is not
Our lot this time, but those who were Great
Had hardier brows, they would wince
At our miserable pines for normalcy
Though pain is real and deeply felt
A greater purpose is at stake, why then
Do we wither and shrink from such
A task, when lives are in a balance
Held up by what honour is still left in us
There will be time enough to vent
Locked up anger and boredom yes
But that time is not now, what is now
Is for a spirit long unused, long praised
By us for them, that spirit we need to rouse
And use ourselves, that gritted power
To save ourselves from utter ruin
Or has the age of the eternal mirror
Left just one face we care to save?
@nepion_boreas17
