Arrows and a bow        

Mortar crumbles,clay again,          
buildings fall and castles fail          
generations crushed and fearful          
no more trust in bricks and lime.      
          
Tents,to shade the sun          
now shroud the dead . . . . . .          
needle thread and cotton.          
 cloth to clothe the poor.      
          
Carpets, card board boxes,          
grain and aeroplanes.          
Where next week  
 we do not know .          
                    
Great men die as great men do          
read by few . .mourned by many.      
 Unheeded in their wisdom.          
Too late we know their worth.  
          
So the mortar crumbles          
buildings fall and castles too.      
There will be war some day,          
somewhere some will die.  
          
Not alone, in company,          
loneliness  not for them.                
Their common fate to die          
until a time shall be.  
 
Moon and sun and blue of sky          
When men shall rule  
as once they did,          
with arrows and a bow.