The flickering flame, at, faith’s altars
The dithering pride, thru the, rites of fears
Our sons, lay there, as vain martyrs
Inked in sin, psalms of, bloodbath’s smears!
They played, with lives, flirted with death
Our sons, who farmed, at the, killing-fields
Sowed seeds, of hate, for a, vain shibboleth
Nurtured with, blood, their manhood’s, yields!
Do we, need reasons, to fight, our wars
Politics invents, many an, excuse
Flags fail, to shroud, patriotic scars
Whilst nations, win, their martyrs, lose!
Thus, many more names, join the, ‘Hall Of Fame’
In the, dualism, of nationalism
We sell, our souls, in this, game of shame
In The Business, Of, Blood-Baptism!
© 2021 Vikas Chandra