A wishful whispers of wish untold.
Shadows of sorrow which time can't withhold.
Plea for the life of our fellows,
Is this how we feel in gallows.
Scent of blood, an echo of despair,
Symphony with tears an ugly pair.
When the number of bodies accrue,
Oh! Unspoken lord, I wish this, you know.
In the land once flowers danced,
How many times does death glanced.
Dreadful echo of weeping I hear,
Haunting present is what we fear.
Not for the peace in grandeur attire,
In my mind sprout a fervent desire.
From heaven destruction drops,
We don't want to witness our childrens corpse.
- Author: Catullus (Pseudonym) ( Offline)
- Published: August 3rd, 2024 11:48
- Comment from author about the poem: The poem is a poignant reflection on the ravages of war and the deep-seated sorrow it inflicts on humanity. It begins with the imagery of unspoken wishes and the shadows of grief that time cannot erase. The plea for the lives of comrades highlights the shared suffering and helplessness felt in dire circumstances. The vivid depiction of blood, tears, and accumulating bodies paints a grim picture of despair and loss. The contrast between the past beauty of the land and its current desolation underscores the tragic transformation brought by conflict. The poem ends with a heartfelt desire for peace, not adorned in grandeur, but as a fervent hope to end the cycle of destruction and spare future generations from witnessing such horrors.
- Category: Sad
- Views: 27
- Users favorite of this poem: Anandh K
Comments2
Beautiful poem, reminds me of the movie "Hacksaw Ridge" well done.
Thank you🙏
The ravages of war are a gruesome and tragic consequence of man and his dark side. A very dark poem.
🖤
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