Between fiefs, of faith, and farms, of fear
Lay tombs of, spent, passion and pride
The cross, of war, who loved, to bear
Lay silent, in them, mortified!
Where is, the glory, in a war!
Do ask, the mad men, who wage it
Beyond, mean machismo’s, metaphor
Whose martyrdom, dead sons, exhibit!
What a state, exalts, to a, heroes’ creed
Is indeed, blood-barter, of politics
Whose men, died more, is all, they need
To dictate, the deeds of, peace-epics!
These conquests, ain’t just, bad-blood fests
But, lasting creed, of civilization
Yet, sum up, history’s, hate-bequests –
Every War, Is Lost, No War, Is Won !
© 2020 Vikas Chandra
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