Lest The Last Bastion Fall To Satan’s Son

Yankees, leave behind, a long-lost war
In a land, betrayed, with an ethos, afraid
Of, faith’s conquest, to, fear’s furor
When jihadis, waged their, last crusade!

They vow, to reinstate, faith’s, ‘Great Dark’ Age
When gore, was spilled, to settle, all scores
In dark shrouds, women lived, death’s pilgrimage
Herded, in harems, traumatized, to their cores!

How far, is Kabul, from Kandahar
Just a war, away, for Taliban
Faith’s phantom, looms in, fear’s avatar
Trampling, soul of, Afghanistan!

With, one-third lost, two-third remains
Life measures, with faith, death’s dimensions
Who’ll need, God’s myth, where Satan’s truth, reigns
Lest, The Last Bastion, Fall To, Satan’s Son!

© 2021 Vikas Chandra

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