In the memory of fallen
stars,
I stood as soldiers did,
on the ground below...
Knees bent, tears
dropping in the wind
Raining falling on the
grave in front of me
Arms are shaky, crossed
as if to hold
What was left inside a
hollow ribcage to rot.
And then I came to
realize, death
Was a path to salvation
too, only to stop the breath
Of every one they held
dear, choking
On the mustard gas,
blood on their face washed by rain, hoping
To escape from the
nearby
Molotov glass, praying
That this too shall
pass.
But what hope is to be
had? And what prayer to be sung?
As long as their
mother's laments are sung in the background,
A scent of slaughter, these
children were too young
For games of blood and
lust, anger and gore on the battleground...
How empty and cold the
world really is?
How evil a king, a
general, mere beasts ...
Are kinder than what
currently exists,
So-called society, and
culture and civilization
Is it worth to sacrifice
their innocence for the sake of a nation?
