The World on Fire
Poemata 37
Some men want the world afire
Their dreams can never die;
As a pulse along the wire
Must shed to heat or go, go go
Half the speed of light must fly
To where? He may not ever know
To see it go he may expire;
Some know that even water burns
In that dire furnace of flame
Heart of the stars, he who learns
May wish to see the thing in proof
May be kindling just the same--
Lightning coursing through the roof
Fulgoric might the tower spurns;
All is shrapnel in the blast
In which the world it must ignite
With pride of life alone has passed
And throw the great in whirl-wind
And pierce the walls as wolfram's bite
Making arm of armor-skinned
All is payload; all is massed;
Har Megiddon is its name
All seem to wish to see it come!
Peace a byword where the same
Stir Megiddo with desire
And to their enemy must drum
That "some men want the world afire"--
What if Har Megiddon came?
- who then,
who would be the liar?