Civility hath no door
Sanity’s obscure
through the fog of war
Beasts of war
growl and clamor
o’er an incurable sore
Trophies of war
bodies and gore
litter the streets galore
Yet from the empire's core
the drums of war
Beat for more
drunk on blood past stupor
past reason’s shore
--
Many return to familiar shores
From the horrors
Bearing permanent scars
of abominable war
Many lie where they fall
Later to be remembered
by the echoes of a bugler’s call
some, an obscure mound marked
by tin helmets on their muskets
some flown home in flag-draped caskets
Youthful enthusiasm and exuberance no more
But only as tales woven into folklore
A reward of tin medals for valor
or plaques mounted on a memorial in the city square
and wounded hearts of kinfolk and lovers
many will keep score
many will the tragedy deplore
and seek healing and a cure……….
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem