Millennium

I met a man, a thousand years from now,
Who said: "All that we know of your dark age
Is blood and murder - death on every page.
So oft aggression creased the sloping brow
Of noble freedom's champions; tell me how."
I said: "Aggression? No; but righteous rage
Inspired us, democratic lineage
Urged us, our gifts to forcibly endow."

He punched the pain-switch, stilling my crude voice:
"You had not our compassion, nor our grace.
Today our war of justice is no lie.
Our enemies throughout the world rejoice
To fall to so exemplary a race."
He stroked the lever that would make them die.

Morgone Gulbusset Flocker