Wicked War Poem by Naveed Akram

War measures undertaken at midnight
Seemed pitiless, wicked as pitying;
The call to arms of a special race,
A race of demons not warriors
To overtake the other devils or lucifers.

Beggars pulled their jokes now,
Like cadavers, like corpses of height;
They blink hardly well at the light of power,
Not escaping the powers of hatred
That out tricked them.
This is bloodthirsty and incredulous.

A bloodbath ensued, fighting was ignorant
Of tactics, of some strategy,
Yet everything vanished from the battlefield
The next day, after uncertainty.
War had legs and we had arms
As fit as civilians.
The cadavers became a redness
On the field of great slaughter.