Riddle of the Root of War

Riddle of the Root of War

Was it a game got out of hand?
A contest with a tribe from some other land?
War I try to understand.
Why change the relay race baton
for a weapon in your hand?

Did the one who lost the chariot race
make conflict out of disgrace?
How came the war paint on your face?
Why the struggle to master more space?

I favour the farmer with his plough,
the builder with wood and stone,
the maker who makes what he wills, anyhow.
Warrior, I speak to you alone,
now your tale has been told,
admit you gained nothing
from stolen silver, ill gotten gold.

A history of agriculture,
invention, trade and exploration,
it could have been alone
without that of invasion,
empire and war.
That is how it could have been.
Why reject it as the dream
of those who are still young and green?

Was it a game got out of hand?
War I try to understand.
Did you first hold a baton
then a weapon in your hand?

The riddle of the root of war,
I come asking at your door.
The way the world has always been,
since the beast spoke on the shore,
will that be the only answer I will glean?

 

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