If it were that Churchill had saved the world
and we had been delivered from the purge
of those most foul and infected fingers
would the Doomsday Clock still near its strike?
Are we delivered
out of the depths of that sorrow and sacrifice?
That we should have to give again,
that we should be called to this sad task
and give again that most full of measure
has never been an easy thing to say,
but men will throw their bodies to the pit.
They always have–so that our babes can sleep
on cotton as soft as a summer breeze.
It is a time for choosing,
a time to cast aside the oldest lines;
do not believe there is a left or right
there is only an up or down from here.
In October of 64 we ‘rose
from the ant heap of totalitarianism.
We went up with the words of Ronald Reagan:
“those who would trade our freedom for security
have embarked on this downward course,”
yet here we are upon our very knees.
We have never seemed more divided,
and the entire world is creeping nearer
the waiting claws of a socialist beast.
The same seven headed hydra that stepped
as geese across the European lines
now hides its emblem from our prying eyes.
Today the youth stumbles toward their goals
all but dressing in their finest Brownshirts,
believing with all their hearts in the Big Lie,
the promise of new prosperity,
new equality and security
given by way of the worst of all trades:
each to be equal in his or her misery.