Game of death

Those naked men came again
With their quivers capacited to teeth
And their shoulders laddened
With the ammunition and rifles of wrath
All carried to extract lives
Machines hang on their backs
Like babies dwindled on their backs
In that regime of blood and life

We were worried
For our ears were tired of warrior’s songs
We never wanted to dig more graves
Our eyes had no more tears to shed,
Our neighbourhoods were tired of funerals
For killing had become a song
That no more tongues wanted to sing
Like lice between the nails
Life was squeezed men
Sons of the gun
Whose virginity faded a time
In that regime of blood and life

That evening they fell on the ground,
Like rain hiding behind the cloud
Armed to teeth with all their cannonades
They lifted their arms and swords
Spears flew through people’s lives
Their legs and hands were chopped
Others slaughtered, sliced and …
In the names of,
“We are defending the nation,
we are protecting the nation”
In that regime of blood and life

This poem is about: 
My country
Guide that inspired this poem: 
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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