The warrior sat on the rock,
Holding to his sword’s handle.
Gazing at the setting sun’s flare,
in wait for an enemy who may dare.
‘The war has waged for so long,’
Thinks the warrior, ‘What went really wrong ?’
‘Had not the king so willed,
My fellowmen won’t have been killed’
‘Is it for their blood that I fight
Or do I fight to uphold the right ?
I would rather not fight
For a trouble so trite.’
He cannot bear the sight,
of his brethren’s last fight.
Nobody knows where do they depart,
to what afterlife and which heavenly part.
We marched across our plush plains,
To reach the bordering enemy’s terrain,
We promised to protect the citizens,
We will be remembered for our bravery hence.
Was this a march to our funeral,
Or to that of victory,
The courage, the honor kept us marching,
We walked with passion, we kept singing:
‘Let not blood flow in vain’
‘We will all endure the pain,’
‘Win the battle no matter what came’
‘We’ll live free, not as anyone’s game’
As his thoughts guided him along
In his painful journey long
He woke up to an early bell
The warlord had something to tell.
Shouted the warlord at his troop,
‘We are good men, better than them’
‘We fight for our nation,our emblem’
‘Fight with might till the enemy ran’
‘Shout and scare even the last man’
The war had started, the battle just began
With blood hungry soldiers attacking enemy men,
The warrior kept fighting on and on,
The soil became red until the sundown.
As he waited for his friends to return,
He found their bodies torn and thrown.
He cried, lifted their heads and hugged them hard
His blood, sweat and tears fall on the lifeless guard.
He thinks, he broods and inquires,
He fights, he kills and injures,
He sits, he waits and endures,
He prays, he gets all he allures.
All of this violent game he is in,
The warrior is wounded without
and he feels tortured within
of a future uncertain and blacked out.
The end of war is what the soldier prays for,
“When will it end ? When will it end?”
As he cuts through the flesh of the gruesome assailant,
the stark realization pierces his problem unpleasant.
“The war’s finished when the life’s finished.”
O war, what’s a good deed and what’s a sin?
The war without persists as the war within.
One kills the body, the other kills the mind.
War is life and be alive for the time you find.