Cry of a soldier

I cast my eyes on the soldiers, thousand stony eyes waiting for

command. Yet something’s hanging against their lips. Ask me

they’re the fathers of the fakest smiles.

Wife in hospital, a child in womb;

Mother, awaiting another feather to the crown, she had

mastered the art, losing.

And there they stand,

With dull eyes and flashing arms

Dressed in combat with naked guns.

‘Lead the war, keep thy silly emotions afar’

was the King’s ominous word last night.

silly, indeed.

Kings will die

Princes will be kings;

Soldiers will die

Their sons wearing weary life as their skin.

You see even the earth will blush in shame.

And I …and I…...

I cry the war-cry.