A Poem for Fun (17)

海外逸士

I'm not surely aware
If I readily prepare
To hunt for a red hare
That is kind of rare.
I ride on a pretty mare,
With my head bare.
At the target I stare,
And meanwhile I blare,
To make the hare scare,
Which falls into a snare.

I had a nightmare:
There was a warfare,
On a wide square,
None yet did declare,
Only sounded fanfare,
Searchlights did glare,
No life to spare,
Only death to share.
Who would really care
For people's welfare?