To find our stolen Peace, we light the torch of war.
Until War carries a flamy head, we can’t find Peace.
Arrogant fingers poked the eyes of our law,
Only a dance upon graves shall appease and make us cease.
Anger aches our eyes, fury poisons our blood,
Muscles stretch with no rein, nostrils spew and fume,
Bows made taut, our stony hearts whet the sword,
Amulets boil under the skin of our battle costume.
Tonight, our bloodlust shall lie amorously on their land,
A bounty of terror and tears they’ll get.
Souls a legion will sink from our hands into their sand,
On their hearts we’ll feast without regret.
“Doom!” roars the drums of war “no going back”.
Like an old rag, her spirit rends the air.
We shall haul our hate in lethal attack,
Daring, duelling, dying and decaying without care.
* This poem does not endorse war in anyway. Its aim is to poetically examine the minds of warmongers, thereby highlighting the fruitlessness of war.
Written by: Kunle Omope
Edited by: Kukogho Iruesiri Samson
- Tell Me Not (wordsrhymesandrhythm.wordpress.com)
- The Burden Bearer (wordsrhymesandrhythm.wordpress.com)
- Red Pen (wordsrhymesandrhythm.wordpress.com)
I am a member of the WRR editorial team.