I do not want to detract from the following poem by Edna St. Vincent Millay through my own lengthy introduction. Only let me say, if you are unfamiliar with her work and worldview, I suggest you do a little research. You might start here.
Let me clarify that I am NOT speaking of a military objection. I support our military and come from a military family. The forced conscription of people like myself to war against the minds, beliefs, and freedoms of others is what I protest.
I had never read this poem before today. The timing was apropos. If you’re struggling to stand for something you believe in, if you are being pushed to go against your own conscience, if you’re tired of being silent, perhaps Millay’s words can speak for you.
Conscientious Objector – Edna St. Vincent Millay
I shall die, but that is all that I shall do for Death. I hear him leading his horse out of the stall; I hear the clatter on the barn-floor. He is in haste; he has business in Cuba, business in the Balkans, many calls to make this morning. But I will not hold the bridle while he clinches the girth. And he may mount by himself: I will not give him a leg up. Though he flick my shoulders with his whip, I will not tell him which way the fox ran. With his hoof on my breast, I will not tell him where the black boy hides in the swamp. I shall die, but that is all that I shall do for Death; I am not on his pay-roll. I will not tell him the whereabout of my friends nor of my enemies either. Though he promise me much, I will not map him the route to any man's door. Am I a spy in the land of the living, that I should deliver men to Death? Brother, the password and the plans of our city are safe with me; never through me Shall you be overcome.