Why deify war, beyond God’s creed
Baptize in blood, man’s vanity
Where sleep myriad men, with life emptied
There bloom scourged tombs, of profanity!
That dust which rose, to the life’s mayhem
Now drenched in gore, lies numb in moans
Who lost, who won, in death’s stratagem
One nation’s heads, another’s milestones!
This silence deafens, beyond the cannon’s blast
Where are those men, their flags of conquest?
With feet of clay, how could they last?
Who lavish their lives, in deaths’ ‘fêted’ fest!
“Don’t tread o’er them…” wails moor at night
“…Till I croon to my sons, their last lullaby
Whilst they sigh to me, the truth of their fight
‘War is but, a lionized lunacy’, Dead Men Don’t Lie!”
© 2017 Vikas Chandra