War
Smoke fills the ugly gray sky
Bullets and shells whizz close by
Narrowly missing soldiers’ heads
Deep muddy trenches are what they call beds
Even in sleep, they cannot
Allow time to stop
To drift into blissful oblivion, far away
From this hell on earth, where they must stay
Living in constant fear
Of losing all that is dear
Every breath maybe their last
A minute feels like an hour past
A great pang is felt every time a comrade
Leaves this world to hopefully one less sad
Yet ‘tis not the fault of the generals nor leaders nor the army head
But ours,the bloodthirsty creatures full of hate as Anne Frank rightly said
Else we would have stopped this idiotic warring business long back
Even longer before we could keep track
No comments:
Post a Comment