Peace was the antidote
Love, the ruthless price for each war invoked
A plume of smoke fitfully arose,
clouds burnt black
inhaling dreams
haunted by vengeful demons now evoked
Lovers departed,
scattered plans never jump-started
The value of life
dimmed down to artifice;
a simple fools vice
She waves farewell
to her brother in arms
Yesterday, she was told
the travesty of life will never change,
such are the rules of this steadfast game
The glory of war stays the same
even when disguised under a different name
Stuck inside a snow globe
where bloodflakes continually storm,
she pounds tiny fists against the glass
The only thing they chip
is a lonely, fragile heart
Out on the battlefield
there remains no honour in wars art
Eyes disconnect at the time of death
The last blink
holds one last glimpse
of a crimson ground decorated with empty mortar shells
In the distance chimes ring heavy from ancient church bells.
Love, the ruthless price for each war invoked
A plume of smoke fitfully arose,
clouds burnt black
inhaling dreams
haunted by vengeful demons now evoked
Lovers departed,
scattered plans never jump-started
The value of life
dimmed down to artifice;
a simple fools vice
She waves farewell
to her brother in arms
Yesterday, she was told
the travesty of life will never change,
such are the rules of this steadfast game
The glory of war stays the same
even when disguised under a different name
Stuck inside a snow globe
where bloodflakes continually storm,
she pounds tiny fists against the glass
The only thing they chip
is a lonely, fragile heart
Out on the battlefield
there remains no honour in wars art
Eyes disconnect at the time of death
The last blink
holds one last glimpse
of a crimson ground decorated with empty mortar shells
In the distance chimes ring heavy from ancient church bells.
very articulate...randomness provided only when necessary...heavy...
ReplyDeletethe travesty of life will never change
such are the rules of this steadfast game
the glory of war stays the same
even when disguised under a different name
precisely put..applies to our history and yet the time at present,sadly...
Stuck inside a snow globe
where bloodflakes continually storm
she pounds tiny fists against the glass
The only thing they chip
is a lonely, fragile heart
vivid imagery..one could actually envisage it..selection of words make a huge difference..
i specially like the ending,like the thumping on the drums get intense, and in the trance like state we see the vision..such depth and melancholy dripping..yet the bleeding truth stays same carrying content of a morbid sort..
of a crimson ground decorated with empty mortar shells
In the distance chimes ring heavy from ancient church bells.
not to forget the subtle undertone of disappointment...
ReplyDeleteYou give me such brilliant, insightful, encouraging feedback. I am ever grateful. Can you please make a blog of your poetry that you have sent me /do you have one already, so that I can be an advocate of your own work, sharing the beauty of your creativity with the world?
ReplyDeleteI am but merely an observer.. and yes i do have a blog, but lets just say it is better this way for now.."insert modern humourous 'emoticon'"
ReplyDelete