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<center>Oh, Death was never enemy of ours!</center>
'''The Next War''' is a post-war poem by [[wikipedia:Wilfred Owen|Wilfred Owen]]. Only the last stanza of the piece was included in ''[[Believe]]''<nowiki />'s "[[Believe: The John 117 Monument]]" trailer.
<center>We laughed, knowing that better men would come,</center>
<center>And greater wars; when each proud fighter brags</center>
<center>He wars on death, for lives: not men, for flags.</center>


Seen in the [[Believe]] "Making of the Diorama" trailer. <ref> [http://uk.youtube.com/watch?v=rnCs46FEtqA]</ref>
==The Poem==
{{Article quote|
<i>
Out there, we've walked quite friendly up to Death,-<br>
Sat down and eaten with him, cool and bland,-<br>
Pardoned his spilling mess-tins in our hand.<br>
We've sniffed the green thick odour of his breath,-<br>
Our eyes wept, but our courage didn't writhe.<br>
He's spat at us with bullets and he's coughed<br>
Shrapnel. We chorussed when he sang aloft,<br>
We whistled while he shaved us with his scythe.<br>
<br>
Oh, Death was never enemy of ours!<br>
We laughed at him, we leagued with him, old chum.<br>
No soldier's paid to kick against His powers.<br>
We laughed, -knowing that better men would come,<br>
And greater wars: when each proud fighter brags<br>
He wars on Death, for lives; not men, for flags. <br>
</i>
}}


==References==
==External links==
*[http://poemhunter.com/poem/the-next-war-2/ ''"The Next War"'' at Poemhunter]
*[http://en.wikiquote.org/wiki/Wilfred_Owen ''"The Next War"'' at Wikiquote.org]


<references/>
[[Category:Believe]]

Latest revision as of 22:33, March 19, 2022

The Next War is a post-war poem by Wilfred Owen. Only the last stanza of the piece was included in Believe's "Believe: The John 117 Monument" trailer.

The Poem[edit]

Out there, we've walked quite friendly up to Death,-
Sat down and eaten with him, cool and bland,-
Pardoned his spilling mess-tins in our hand.
We've sniffed the green thick odour of his breath,-
Our eyes wept, but our courage didn't writhe.
He's spat at us with bullets and he's coughed
Shrapnel. We chorussed when he sang aloft,
We whistled while he shaved us with his scythe.

Oh, Death was never enemy of ours!
We laughed at him, we leagued with him, old chum.
No soldier's paid to kick against His powers.
We laughed, -knowing that better men would come,
And greater wars: when each proud fighter brags
He wars on Death, for lives; not men, for flags.

External links[edit]