Two hands:
one for lifting corpses,
the other for digging graves.
Two legs:
blistered from marathons
miraging borders.
Two eyes:
one watching families die,
the other hit by shrapnel.
Two cheeks:
both malnourished.
Two ears:
one tuned to sirens,
other deafened.
A cracked ribcage,
teargas filled lungs,
gritted teeth filed by famine,
taste less tongues
Souls are stillborn here,
The only offerings left are
spines and elbows.
This is the anatomy of peace.
Now let's sign treaties.
With two pens:
one dipped in crude oil
other in coagulated blood.
With two hands which shake
With two flags which falter and flutter,
With two signatures fluent in hypocrisy's grammar.
The only offerings are speeches.
This is the ceremony of peace.
Now let's write poetry.
With elbows that jab silences
and spine that refuses to bow.
splinter hatred
and allow humanity to grow.
This will be the victory of peace.
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Author:
Aman 12 (
Offline) - Published: October 3rd, 2025 20:41
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 9
Offline)
Comments1
Strong words pull at weak accords. Powerful lines for tenuous promises. To stop a man from fighting is like telling him to stop breathing his selfishness prevails. A lovely write
Your comment is poetry.. thank you for this lovely comment.
You are most welcome
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