There is no glory in battle worth the blood it costs.
quote by Dwight D. Eisenhower
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Blood Of The Kings
Brothers the battle is raging
Choose your side
Sing with us the BATTLE HYMNS
into glory ride
hail to england
the sign of the hammer's our gide
Forever we're fighting the world Side by side
On a crusade
The world we bring
Four Kings of Metal
Four Metal Kings
Death to the false ones
Dance on a string
'Till the blood on your sword is the blood of a king
'Till the blood on your HAND is the blood of a king
Our armies in England
song performed by by Manowar from Kings Of Metal
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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“LIVES” are Priceless
Believe it, humans cost money, they’re profits, and lives aren’t
important:
“It costs to be born, ”
“It costs to live, ”
“It costs to die.”
In the agriculture industry, money comes before being fed.
In the fashion industry, money comes before being clothed.
In the real estate industry, money comes before being sheltered.
In the business industry, money comes before doing without needs.
In the health industry, money comes before saving lives.
In the funeral industry, money comes before burying a life.
Money is the main human sacrifice and those celebrities are the public example; the dramas and appraisers surrounding their lives are preyed upon by tabloids that make earnings about their publicity:
Their charity work, it’s worth bronze.
Their childhood, it’s worth silver.
Adultery exposure, nude images, drugs, DUI, etc. it’s worth gold.
Death or prison sentence, a pandemonium, that’s worth platinum!
Coming into this world you’re paying a price, but what will happen if people can’t afford to buy anymore? Nah, that wouldn’t happen—it’s always will or a way, and even with the different birth control life can’t be eliminated.
poem by Francee Bouvenir
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One Shot At Glory
Let me hear the battle cry
Calling on the wind
Let me see the banners fly
Before the storm begins
Let me feel the spirits soar
Destroy the enemy
Striking at the evil core
For all the world to see
This day will last forever
Deep in the hearts of men
Courage and victory
Remember, remember
One shot at glory
In the crossfire overhead
Fate stands before me
Words have all been said
One shot at glory
Driving hard and seeing red
Destiny calls me
One night of fire
One shot at glory
Fighting on with dignity
In life and death we deal
The power and the majesty
Amidst the blood and steel
I still hear the battle cry
The call goes on and on
I still see the banners fly
The battles always won
song performed by by Judas Priest
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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And, in the past, it has been all too easy for legislators to load costs onto business in order to meet broader social goals. And costs for business means costs for consumers.
quote by John Hutton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If This Were Faith
God, if this were enough,
That I see things bare to the buff
And up to the buttocks in mire;
That I ask nor hope nor hire,
Nut in the husk,
Nor dawn beyond the dusk,
Nor life beyond death:
God, if this were faith!
Having felt thy wind in my face
Spit sorrow and disgrace,
Having seen thine evil doom
In Golgotha and Khartoum,
And the brutes, the work of thine hands,
Fill with injustice lands
And stain with blood the sea:
If still in my veins the glee
Of the black night and the sun
And the lost battle, run:
If, an adept,
The iniquitous lists I still accept
With joy, and joy to endure and be withstood,
And still to battle and perish for a dream of good:
God, if that were enough!
If to feel, in the ink of the slough,
And the sink of the mire,
Veins of glory and fire
Run through and transpierce and transpire,
And a secret purpose of glory in every part,
And the answering glory of battle fill my heart;
To thrill with the joy of girded men
To go on for ever and fail and go on again,
And be mauled to the earth and arise,
And contend for the shade of a word and a thing
not seen with the eyes:
With the half of a broken hope for a pillow at night
That somehow the right is the right
And the smooth shall bloom from the rough:
Lord, if that were enough!
poem by Robert Louis Stevenson
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War, The Plight Of Man
The fires of war are burning, they burn forever bright
The horns of war are blowing, they summon warriors to fight
Two armies come to battle, a clash of sword and shield
And when the fight is over, blood and death shall coat the field
A test of soul and bravery, for glory wariors fight
They come to fight for honor, to test their strength and might
On fields of death and glory, the weels of war stil turn
The horn of war still blowing, the fires of war still burn
Until the world has ended, war shall be man's plight
Until no blood is left to spill, men shall come to fight.
poem by Tim Vallie
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I'm So Lucky
I'm not hungry or afraid and I can be me
Since I live in a country where all are free.
The cost of this freedom has always been why
Independence has depended on many who die…
Who die in defense of inalienable rights
So all may sleep soundly through peaceful nights.
I can complain about things I think are wrong
With no worry that police will be coming along.
Costs of living in America are increasingly high,
But in other places costs of living will make you cry.
By speaking your mind you pay with sweat and blood.
Your cardboard shack disappears in torrents of mud.
Never enough food to eat or fresh water to drink;
Rotting remains engorge air with an insufferable stink.
So little chance to learn and improve a meager life
As the battle to keep alive loses to poverty's strife.
Luckily, this isn't my world but often I act as if it were
Attending to insignificants in a country rich and sure.
I must always remember… and remember with pride
That things uniting us far outnumber those that divide.
poem by Gregory Huyette
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Glory of Man and Horse
Oh, the glory of the charge!
Man and horse to battle
Never an army too large
To stand in their way
Oh, the glory of the plains!
Man and horse to conquer
Battling wind and rains
To tame the far, far west
Oh, the glory of the sand!
Man and horse to test
Over the hot, dry land
To try their strength
Oh, the glory of the race!
Man and horse to run
Galloping a fearsome pace
To win that golden cup
An Angry Poem, Because So Many Flags Are At Half Staff
The wreaths are piling up on the curb. Coffins line streets swept and stainless. Some one asks why, there are murmurs in the crowd. I am beyond curiosity, tired of the story that begins with Blood and ends in Glory. Glory, worshiped in the streets, feared in our hearts. Glory, bought with sin, greed and the end of innocence. Glory, balm for the living because the dead do not need soothing. Glory, an epithet hammered into gravestones. Glory in death -wrap that lie in a flag and praise it to heaven. We are false prophets and our blessing has cursed the dead with the Blood sacrifice.
Blood is paid for with youth, salvation, faith -everything, all they have and ever will. Blood is given (taken) in our name and we can only offer up sorrow, prayers, songs, statues. Blood should bring guilt, shame, truth, but we deny, deny, deny, and deny the abomination we have become. 2,000 suicides,3,000 dead,130,000 killed,6 million murdered,60 million casualties... the numbers do not lie. And we will go on counting the dead while rain polishes their headstones smooth.
So do not ask me why so many flags are at half staff. I will not give you the answer you want to hear. I will not mock the dead with vainglorious praise, Glory Glory Hallelujah! They are the mothers, fathers, sons and daughters who paid the price of Blood and I will honor them with the truth.
poem by Ronald Shields
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The Glory of Man and Horse
Oh, the glory of the charge!
Man and horse to battle
Never an army too large
To stand in their way
Oh, the glory of the plains!
Man and horse to conquer
Battling wind and rains
To tame the far, far west
Oh, the glory of the sand!
Man and horse to test
Over the hot, dry land
To try their strength
Oh, the glory of the race!
Man and horse to run
Galloping a fearsome pace
To win that golden cup
poem by Horse Poet
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Nothing that costs only a dollar is not worth having.
quote by Elizabeth Arden
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Glory Is Not The Glory of God
MY GLORY IS NOT THE GLORY OF G-D
My glory is not the glory of G-d
I do not know what the glory of God is-
I do not know my own glory.
Glory glory glory
What’s glory?
We are small lost souls in a space and time so far beyond us
It is difficult to imagine
Even God knows how to deal with it.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Loose Talk Costs Lives
(b gibb)
Loose talk costs lives
People like to play
Were basically the same
We never lie
Loose talk costs lives
Dont look at me as if you dont remember me at all
There was laughter, there was pain
But I wont make the same mistakes I made
You are too beautiful to me
I hide my tears inside the rain
Am I the soul you cast your spell upon
I had control and now its gone
Or are you someone who controls my heart and mind
And I will never say a word
And I will never say goodbye
Loose talk costs lives
People like to play
Were basically the same
We never lie
Loose talk costs lives
I can see that someone hung a sign around your heart
And it reads do not return
And there is so much trouble I could cause
Someone as beautiful as you
You can feel my candle burn
And I still recall some starry night
We had it all, we held on tight
I promised I would come to you and catch you if you fall
And they will never know about us
For just one moment you were mine
Loose talk costs lives
People like to play
Were basically the same
We never lie
Loose talk costs lives
For just one moment, just one moment, you were mine
Loose talk costs lives
(our moment held in time)
People like to play
Were basically the same
We never lie
Loose talk costs lives
Loose talk costs lives
People like to play
Were basically the same
We never lie
Loose talk costs lives
song performed by by Bee Gees
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Last Post
THE day's high work is over and done,
And these no more will need the sun:
Blow, you bugles of England, blow!
These are gone where all must go,
Mightily gone from the field they won.
So in the workaday wear of battle,
Touched to glory with God's own red,
Bear we our chosen to their bed!
Settle them lovingly where they fell,
In that good lap they loved so well;
And, their deliveries to the dear Lord said,
And the last desperate volleys ranged and sped,
Blow, you bugles of England, blow,
Over the camps of her beaten foe --
Blow glory and pity to the victor Mother,
Sad, O sad in her sacrificial dead!
Labour, and love, and strife, and mirth,
They gave their part in this kindly earth --
Blow, you bugles of England, blow!
That her Name as a sun among stars might glow,
Till the dusk of time, with honour and worth:
That stung by lust and the pain of battle,
The One Race ever might starkly spread,
And the One Flag eagle it overhead!
In a rapture of wrath and faith and pride,
Thus they felt it, and thus they died;
So to the Maker of homes, to the Giver of bread,
For whose dear sake their triumphing souls they shed,
Blow, you bugles of England, blow,
Though you break the heart of her beaten foe,
Glory and praise to the everlasting Mother,
Glory and peace to her lovely and faithful dead!
poem by William Ernest Henley
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Was It Worth It?
The ground runs red
As the rain falls down
What to do now?
Everything I've known is gone
My old life
Old world
Washed away
Like the burnt remains
Of my childhood house
That I stand before
Do the means justify the end?
I can't help but ask
Was it worth it?
All the battle fields
Where the smell
Of death and gunpowder and blood
Still permeate the very air
Children grieve with their mothers
Who have all lost husbands and fathers
Uniforms made of grey
Lie battered and torn on the ground
All this pain and sacrifice
To win a losing war
Was it worth it?
poem by Autumn Winds
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To enjoy life is worth so much more than it costs.
Shiloh is a wonderfully dramatic battle. The leader of one side is killed, and the other one is going on to glory, and it was the first great battle. It lasted two days.
quote by Shelby Foote
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Shadows of Gettysburg
Can there be glory greater than this?
Of land consecrated, by blood and by strife.
Can there be souls- More honored than these here?
Who for their country gave supreme sacrifice.
These hills and these rocks hole mem’ries of battle
Of friendship and reverence and loss of life.
A nation divided, returning only to clash,
In an epic of pride, steel and lead.
Bloodied and tattered, grim and forlorn…
Was it for glory?
Was it for spite?
What was the message?
Was there a choice?
Answer me this, oh dim shadows!
Echoes of that time so long past.
Can you tell me what you fought and died for?
And if, knowing what has come to be,
Would you do it all over again?
poem by Megan Lacey
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