Where squirrels, found their, cherished nuts
And hid them, where, in the, nooks of fall
We watched, while, polishing, rifle butts
Oblivious of, whispers, of squall!
We lazed, in sun, and dazed, in moon
Ever trading, tales of, chivalry
Romantic seemed, martyrdom’s, ‘boon’
Love’s lie, bold truth, of, rivalry!
When satesmen, turned, into, brinkmen
They bared, our myths, of war, to the bone
Bullets, blood, pain, and death, are real, when
Martyrdom sleeps, in a, lone tombstone!
War ain’t, loft-lies, politicians, sell
But the, flagrant facts, vain martyrs, tell
Matter, many times more, than, this melee
The Days, We Laughed, The War Away!
© 2022 Vikas Chandra