Saturday, July 9, 2011

The battle cry
pierced the sky;
the sky was an orange red
in the dusk, like the bloodshed
that would haunt
soldiers in nightmares, taunt
them of their baseness,
of their human weakness,
for greed of land
that would stain the sand
with blood, and bleach it
with bones; each
corpse a painful sight,
a reminder of a fight
in vain,
each bloodstain
exemplified what it cost,
of little gained and so much lost.


  1. I love reading poems from new writers and I enjoyed this a lot

  2. the last line was very nice "of little gained and so much lost"
    war has it's reasons but it never comes without repercussions, need for recovery is the pain indeed!

  3. lovely imagery

    come join poets rally today.
    week 48 is on.


  4. You expose the ironies of war, Makhi. The gory details it portrays to us, the sadism, the loss. You do this with apt description that speaks less yet speaks volumes of the paradox of our times, of war and of peace, of love and of hatred and better still of the various shades of war, the gruesome and the cruel. Loved this.

  5. war hurts.

    powerful and brilliant highlight on it.
    bless victims,

    welcome sharing your work with

    bless you.