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Rated: E · Poetry · Emotional · #1866299
A poetry for Humanity, against the wastage of human life in wars...
Ah!! what a day came by,
Before the sun rose high,
My snores were not yet silent,
My dreams were still fresh but violent,
When suddenly, I felt something hurt..
Raging with anger, I opened my eyes,
And saw the battle again with a sigh!!
Those little things fighting for me, lo!
All of them look alike, whether friend or foe..
What do they call them? Men, I think..
Ripping each others throats as I blink.

I was aghast!!
I looked above, on to the heavens vast,
Dropped a silent tear,
The birds around were screeching with fear.
What can I do to stop this madness??
The bloodshed, the canon blasts, were shattering..

I was sitting useless, whiling away the time,
And below me, they were dying..

Mournfully, I closed my eyes.
Then, I heard a voice by my side.
Running, panting, sweating, he came,
I knew not the name.
He sat down, resting against me.
Shivering vigorously, I could feel it,
Was it fear of death, or regret for life?
No!! They were sobs, I saw.
The tears trickling down his cheek.
Washing away the grime and gore.
I saw his eyes, they were blue.
Once, they were bright, it seemed,
But now they were hollow.
The man behind them, already dead.
He raised his head, up high,
And broke into a heart-rending cry.
I felt myself being ripped apart.
He cried endlessly, I wished I could comfort.
He threw the killing machine he carried,
With all his might.
Then from his boot, he took out a paper.
Unfolded it, and kissed it.
The woman in it, was old, I saw.

Then finally, I heard his voice,
"Mother! I now know, what father might have felt!!
I've killed eight of them, the enemies, they say.
They were all my age, sons of mothers,
Husbands of some beautiful wives,
I killed them mother, I made widows and orphans.
I saved my Country, should I be proud?
You'd be proud I know.
But I killed, mum, I killed.
When I come back, I'll hide myself in your bosom,
Your tears might wash this blood away,
Your love will help me be forgiven,

But if I never return....
Do tell Lucy, I loved her,
And I loved you too remember..."

Then there was a deafening noise,
The man was gone...
He lay in pieces in my lap.

The rage within me roared.
Why do they do this? I deplored.

He was his mother's Blue Eyed Boy,
He loved and was loved.
Why did he have to die so soon?
What purpose was he killed, for whom?
They're lies for what they die,
They're lies on what the autocrats survive.
They're lies on what the world, they divide.
They're lies for what the Humanity died
Nothing but Lies,
To you My son, They lied....
© Copyright 2012 Mind's Eye (sriti_sriti at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1866299-Through-the-eye-of-the-mountain