(14-2-1957 / Coimbatore, Tamilnadu, India)

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Sonnet: On Modern Wars

Oh, modern warfare is ruthlessly fought,
With men buried alive in trenches deep;
And blown to smithereens, in crossfire caught,
While kith and kin, wives, mothers, loved ones weep!

’Tis fight to death- bodies you can’t retrieve;
Or maimed so grotesquely, none can discern;
Some lost; some taken prisoners, morn and eve;
Blood-shed like river- yet not world’s concern.

And hunger, diseases, climate too kill;
Sheer waste of bullets, lives and material;
And without peace, both parties become ill;
The common-man’s sufferings are so real.

War’s ravages haunt posterity too!
What can the other nations or God do?

8-24-2002

Submitted: Thursday, July 03, 2003


Read poems about / on: river, war, peace, lost, death, god, world, sonnet

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