Because OF War
The war comes on the door,
The lady leaves her children go,
N' when they dun, they shall die at home,
On beds of glorious shores,
'Son, I die. It is not your wrong,
It's the pride of me who fought,
Years after years you remember those,
Or you're a memory in the heart of your home.'
'Dadie, would you die for me?
Would you feel what I feel?
Save the day on the borders of the game;
Will you promise to save the day? '
And they say:
'Save us from the war,
Save your neighbour lives next door,
Can you fight them with your gun,
Start till midnight from the dawn? '
'Go away my lovely soul,
Tell my son, I finished them all,
Tell the people, no fear anymore,
With my gun I stood till the end,
I fought till midnight from the dawn.'
'And here I shall die, son
And here my corpse will lie,
In this sand a droplet of my red would dry
The enemy soldiers I killed, sons for their blood as you for mine will cry,
But never compare your innocence with theirs'
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Comments about this poem (Because OF War by Mustafa Ghuneim )
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827)
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