Ashes

I was older than memory

when your ancients were new.

The many prayed for salvation

and were buried by the few.

Ashes. Ashes. They all fell down.

I adhere to no treaty

and never grant quarter.

I’ve stricken just born,

strangers, sons, daughters.

Ashes. Ashes. They all fall down.

I make no distinction

amongst civilian and soldier,

between man, or mother,

or the child on her shoulder.

Ashes. Ashes. They’ll all fall down

My victims are beyond number,

though a few are likely familiar.

Al Capon, Oscar Wilde, and

even your founding father.

Ashes. Ashes. They’re all in the ground.