In the old was drum of hoofs and the beat of shod feet.
in the new wars hum of motors and the tread of rubber tires.
In the wars to come silent wheels and the whirr of rods not yet dreamed out in the heads of men.
In the old wars clutches of shortswords and jabs into faces with spears.
In the new wars long-range guns and smashed walls, guns running a spit of metal and falling in tens and twenties.
In the wars to come new silent deat5hs, new silent hurlers not yet dreamed out in the heads of men.
In the old wars kings quarreling and thousands of me following.
In the new wars kings quarreling and millions of men following.
In the wars to come kings kicked under the dust and millions of men following great causes ont yet dreamed out in the heads of men.
Tiffany Dillon
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/wars-3/
