Still, rages on, for a, new eon
That age, of hate’s, hideous outrage
A father’s, legacy, for his son –
“One more, conquest, is left, to wage!”

Why, mean men, lie, who love, to die
“Fury, is the faith, that, remedies fear”
Why World War, ain’t, different, from Troy
Same, passion’s burden, still, we bear!

Still, mothers mourn, and widows, weep
Whilst, children learn, to be, orphans
Who forget, to live, for a vow, to keep
Are forgotten, by, their nations!

Peace, is a promise, bargained, by blood
For the hate, to live, amen, amen, …!
Born from, prejudice, of, political mud
Immortal Wars, Of, Mortal Men!

© 2022 Vikas Chandra