I don’t know why the world is weary now,
weighed down by fighting,
torching fires ignite huge flames of discord.
.
I try to look away, but those images keep repeating in my mind,
tortured souls that once fought wars,
now lying in tombs that some may never know or hear of,
buried under the earth’s hardened soil.
.
How did they die when there is so much to live for?
or Why?
.
I think countries are broken up for a reason,
Maybe from zealous men who reek of scents
of power
of control
or
own
the pride
and
arrogance
of
might
Someday, to regret.
.
No warlords have ever died without guilt or shame,
without innocent blood in their hands,
nor peacefully.
.
No warlords have ever gone to their graves
without fear
knowing they chose war,
to destroy peace.
.
No warlords live with rested minds.
-shobana-
A story that just might save the future generation.
Your words are powerful, Shobana. They speak a truth that we all find easier to deny. 🙂
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Thank you. I write just as I feel, my friend. Thanks so much for reading and that kind comment.
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Such a touching poem, my friend. It’s a wonder worth mulling over. Why is humanity against itself? Why do we find comfort in war. It’s a painful recount, Shobana. Oh, how I wished our leaders chose peace instead of war. 😒🙏
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Yes, so do I. We are just caught up with so many injustices, I guess. Thank you, my friend.
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You’re right, my friend. It’s my pleasure. 🙏
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