Why’s tethered, to a, soldier’s breaths
Politics of pride, and, pasts’ prejudice!
Why nations, await, their martyrs’ deaths
Ain’t machismo, a profound, malice!
Why mothers, send their, sons to die
Don’t they know, won’t they, ever know!
That screams, of dead, they never lie
“Your heroes, are Satans, spite’s seeds, who sow!”
Where’s the glory, in this, mad bloodbath
Just pain, of passion, decayed to dust
Yet states, celebrate, hate’s aftermath
With paeans, of pride, and tombs august!
A flag flutters, and, flame flickers, o’er a, lost son’s grave
Pride’s metaphor, betrays, a soul’s furor
Yet, a man, must die, to be, called ‘brave’
In The Faiths’, Fears’ War, Baptized In Gore!
© 2019 Vikas Chandra
vikas chandra 