At the altar, of faith, blood and bravado
He vows, his life, to an, epic death
A man is a child, of his, vain machismo
Who proves, his worth, playing doom’s shibboleth!

A foe, is a foe, nothing more, nor less
On your land, whose head, should roll, someday
Bloodshed, is an art, of sadistic finesse
More the gore, who sheds, conquers the melee!

Barbed fences break; are fixed; to break; …
Two lands, stand still, to celebrate, their dead
Until resurrects, ‘passion’s’ new outbreak
To supplant, old lessons, with new, miseries instead!

Wars manifest, man’s, pride and prejudice
For there, can’t be a, manlier metaphor
Until, does not fill, bloodlust’s abyss
Man shall fulfill, Sacraments Of War!

© 2018 Vikas Chandra