23900
Down through the millennia
grand armies have
marched across
plains of destruction.
Battle cries
forever lost in the ether,
spilt blood
absorb and recycled.
Names of the warriors
forever lost, unknown to the future.
Civilizations
have come and gone,
some never being known
to modernity.
Important men
striding the halls of power,
controlling all they see.
Self impressed with their prowess.
Brass knuckled men climbing
over and knocking down
others, any who got in their way,
power at all cost.
Men gnawing
their way to the present,
leaving blood and destruction
in their wake.
Where do such men
go from here?
How will their aggressive
tendencies
translate in the world
of hyper-technology?
Will it propel them to the stars,
or blast them into oblivion?
It’s the toss of a coin I think.
