For A Mass Of Soil Poem by Madhura J...

It might be a mass of soil.
It might be a well of oil.
Seems trifle to people thousands of ten.
But is enough to command armies of men.

Emotions in the name of pride are fanned.
Compassion between the two sides is banned.
For some reason a war is sought.
Lives of people innocent are bought.

When the war ends, nothing remains.
Their worlds weep, ah, but in vain.
For leaders do not hear the cries of Silence Towers*.
They know not of the eternity of the darkest hours.

'At the end of the tunnel, there is light.
Expand a little your narrow sight! '
I wish they knew that the lives don't mend.
That once begun, wars never end.






*Refer Wikipedia for 'Tower of Silence'