Beneath The Guns

Lion's roar and flame of hell,
Smoke from a dozen suns,
Volcanic tremors, belching death,
All meet beneath the guns.

Launching shells and trails of fire
Fill the summer sky.
Far downrange, embracing earth,
The sons of mothers die.

Cannon blast and hell on wheels
Export a murderous fate.
Lifting fields with demon breath,
Salvation comes too late.

A soldier, young and soon to die,
Forgets his mother's face.
Steel splinters, sharp and heated red,
Cover him as lace.

No man was born, or raised for this,
As fodder for the maw;
Gentle little baby boys,
Now bleeding meat, and raw.

O! My sweet Lord Jesus!
Is it possible to forgive the ones
Who brought us to this place,
'Neath the shadow of the guns?