Whilst, ‘statesmen’ play, brinkmanship’s chess
Their pawns, are men, who vow, their lives
To win, for them, their mean melee
Who die, nameless, so that, history thrives!

When conquests, of pride, end in, stalemate
Politics, of power, plays its, patriotic card
Nations learn, absolute truth, of hate
As ‘martyrs’, line up, to graveyard!

Lest Cold War, sow seed, of World War
In farms, of faith, sprout, yields of fear
Why a, million mad men, should spill, their gore
To be, fistful of leaders’, sadistic souvenir!

When madness ends, with, bargainable deaths
They’ll sign, peace deals, with the blood, of their men
Vain martyrs, of their, political shibboleths
Volodymyr Won’t Die, Nor, Putin, Biden, …!

© 2022 Vikas Chandra