FEATURE ARTICLE

Thursday, July 5, 2018
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WAR DRUMS (Poem)

ethinks war is conceived
in the belly of the mind,
and after radicalization
of the fibers of the brain
it manifest into overt act.

When unleashed,
its destructive face is loathed
as bullets whistle,
jets dominate the sky,
mortar bombs sing
living in its wake casualties and fatalities.
Streets and lanes are turned into
human abattoir,
displaying a distasteful disaster pornography.

We watch as vultures assemble
and gods with the flag of Mars
jeering as us,
as we inch closer to the brink.

Yes, we can smell the wet soil of blood
and the overpowering stench
of hate and hostility
Our air emits the odour of intolerance,
the hoopoe, the mysterious bird
that tunes the lyre of sorrow
has taken the center stage
as major events to come
has cast its shadow
upon the screen of the sun.

But people might differ in opinion
and religion, yet are sympathetic
and cooperative.

Lo, we have abandoned ourselves
to the delirium of passion
and have replaced the philosophy
of laughter with the religion of tears.
We have surrendered to the fatal music
that lures one into the dance of death

Where anarchy reigns
and sovereignty still exits,
he, who is entrusted with authority,
should not take the posture of a reluctant sheriff,
but must assume the attitude of the shepherd.


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