@ War of Attrition
Put out the fire, the stakes are high
When bulls fight,
Earth under their feet is trampled.
Truth is hazy, who but is the real lover,
A homespun thread, peace is but rare
Wealth, repute, and strings of power,
Egos are like spider’s web.
Who won, who lost, now time to forget
From whose hands flow alms, whose charity,
Would the hungry ask the creed of bread.
Many faces are worn, masks of deception
He said, but his interest, who wins paradise.
Others sacrificed, comfort, offices high,
Some gloomy, looking whence the fall,
Yet success is measured by count of heads.
Once upon a time, a divine in disguise,
Lead the tribe to a war across the line.
So simple are they, they would throw beads,
For a kiss before the vulture, to turn it holy.
A warrior from nowhere fought with stone bullets,
Remembered now, as a fighter of freedom.
From the statue of liberty, an eye of dajjal,
An alien army of mercenaries, by the hearth.
Look! Now, they know their rights,
For how long, ignorance be their fortune.
Poor, vulnerable, of gentle nature,
Homeless, captives, the iron grill
Eternally clamped on their cherished freedom.
-On the plight of the people of South Waziristan.
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Poet's Notes about The Poem
Shahur Pass in Waziristan @ Khyber.org
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