In lands afar, where moss, shrubs, wild grass and floras abound

In mind’s eyes I can see some blooms in yellow, lean and sway

In the cold and blue wind that gently whispers to my mind

A thousand stories of the young men who have gone away

From this harsh world, who were preys of the cold and the unkind,

Whose war missions deformed the young men’s dreams from gold to grey.   

 

Amid the roar of the weapons, bloodstained, the young fell and died.

Mother earth bore within her womb her every silenced, brood.

Yet, no one did care to raise epitaphs of any kind

Save the inscriptions, ‘The Unknown Soldiers’, what a world!

Now deep down lies their skulls and broken bones all abandoned.

Above their rest spots grow nature’s garden in green and gold………

 

For days, and months the mothers, wives, lovers and the offspring

Dreamt of triumphant reunions with the war heroes.

When months turned to years, they wept knowing that there’s no spring.

Do we care for the tears they’ve shed and their deep sorrows?

Didn’t those men deserve full lives with many joys to bring?

As the sorrows ebb out, should we spark them in the morrows?

 

Our young men now dwell with cheer and spirit amid their folks

Their eyes sparkle with hopes to live a long, blessed and sweet life

Should we pluck them and arm them with guns, weapons and nukes

To slay each other, the common man and to spread wide strife?

Rulers, muse on peace, feed the unfed and halt the war’s quakes   

Spare the young and let them live long, to lead a deific life.