And the wheel turns And darkness threatens once more And the blowhards send the brave And the brave kill the brave And turn on the objectors And the wheels turn in the mire of lost hope And the brave lose their hope while the blowhards hope they win And we all lose as the wheel turns And the brave come home in pieces, in boxes or in tears And the darkness is pushed back once more And we say we will remember, while the memory is still fresh And the wounds are fresh And the wheel turns ever on And the flowers bloom and the silence is noted And we say that we will never forget And the wheel turns again And the blowhards are pumped with greed And the brave are fatted on tales of glory And the wheel turns David Ault - Ripon Poetry Festival Winner, 2018