Life and death
The countries may be yours,
the soil belongs to us.
The boundaries may be yours,
the earth belongs to us.
The struggle may be yours,
the rubble belongs to us.
The soldiers may be yours,
but the floods of blood,
the heartwrenching tears,
that inundate the drowning world
belongs only to us.
You may speak of hatred.
Wars, weapons, guns,
maybe your wealth;
we speak of peace, love,
we speak of life,
not of death.
© supratik 2023
A very heartfelt and moving poem. There is a sense of proud resistance against a world gone crazy.
There is indeed a death cult pulling the strings just now but their time is at hand.
The older I get the more futile I see war, for we are all connected so we fight against ourselves if we engage.
Great suffering is evident but love always wins in the end.
Thank you, Alison. Yes, it is sad but true that we have delivered destruction with integrity.
And thank you for the pick, Alison.
Nice & substantial rendition ! Thomas Hardy’s eternal love & existence re-winded in your verses.
Thank you for reading and commenting. I am glad you liked it.
Superb poetry, Supratik! Effective use of gentler diatribe! Very nib-worthy!
Thank you, Trevor. I am glad you liked it.