Want a piece of war?
Tattered bodies, broken limbs
maimed in the eye, no life within,
screams of agony echo in vain
for martyrs already died in pain.
Somewhere in a city resonates
the hue and cry of unknown fate,
silence drips on the cold streets
natives asked to either die or flee.
Curfew prevails in neighbourhoods
absolutely no sign of brotherhood,
for what now matters is saving oneself
the rest can go to heaven or hell.
Sirens blow out all day and night
no one to hear each other's plight,
scrunched in corners of our homes
for if bombs fall, you might die alone.
Vermilion rivers flow everywhere
blood for men, for women their tears,
families are broken, so are hearts
in war, you can't really rewind the past.
Cries of battalions overpower your ears
you meanwhile shake in bed with fear,
but weren't you the one who called for war
or was it your brilliant stupidity at par.
Want a piece of war, my dear friend?
then be prepared to witness this instead,
for you won't avenge the death of those slain
but want others to undergo terrible pain.
You sit in comfort, for the time being
fuelling provocative anger unseen,
but once war begins, you won't be spared
yes you, and everyone else who dared.
Ask for peace and lookout for your brethren
who want to protect you and their own children,
but you asked for a piece of war, right
then be prepared to feel the agonising plight.
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