Crippling disease of a disturbed heart
conjours up war.
When dizzy with envy and possessed
by discontent,
darknes seeps into a smile,
light of fragrant fellowship droops,
then dies,
and withering unrestrained warring sets in.
Dissension like stench fuels disputes,
and debates become brawls.
Colours of war, dyed in permanent hate
arise from ideals frustrated
by distorted love.
Patience becomes fear blackened, scraped
clean of compassion,
and unfeeling streaks appear
as patches of strain.
Hues such as smeared
in blood after battle
discolour, lame and dishonour
the name of nations.
War will colour dark all it engages,
never is anything else
so black as the colour of rage.
Wars due to distorted ideals dishonour nations as stenches of darkened blood on diseased or deceased bodies indeed! A dark coloured poem on stinking wars!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
i remembered the Martial law days in our country some decades ago... so good i was not yet alive that time... anyway, nice poem!