A mildly satirical Sonnet

That bravely mouthed but bitter word, so sure
to conflict nations in the winter cold,
there to redefine ‘hero’ and endure
the Pyrrhic victory that would soon unfold.
You gained respect, but dearly lost your country,
overwhelmed by a force you could not stay,
just as at long-recalled Thermopylae,
you saved your honour, but could not save the day.

Now a cause for yearly pompous glory,
a sabre-rattling show in futile might.
No warning whispers ‘o, memento mori’
can stifle jingoistic mental blight.

So cruelly abused, both by friend and foe,
this nation celebrates the concept: ‘No’ .