Breaking Fresh Ground

a poem by Francis Komban

A world with mortal wounds,
A world with deep divisions,
The innocent gunned down mercilessly,
Sky-scrappers razed down mindlessly,
Men and women massacred,
Children, immaculate, orphaned;
Gruesome deaths, awesome sights,
Everywhere it’s free for all guys.

Lay scattered corpses of frontier guardians,
Scores fated to crawl with shattered dreams,
In a cruel fashion destiny danced
On the widows, callously shunned,
Thrown into a world of oblivion,
The rest of life, lost and forlorn;
Others sent into exile, suffering ignominy,
Humiliated and submitted to the tyranny.

Sham statesmen shedding crocodile tears,
With tall talks but no contrite hearts,
Rally solidarity for a ‘noble’ cause
Of vested interests; everything a mere farce.
Pacifists stand dazed and dejected,
Rationalists, in the midst of chaos, baffled;
‘We know not what’s happening,’ lamented humanity.
Everything seems enveloped in a shroud of mystery!

Run, man, run for peace-run,
For God’s sake, lay down your gun;
Stop waging waste wars for gold and land
Help accomplish the mission hand in hand,
Let’s hold aloft the flag of love and sanity,
With no room for any hatred and vanity.
A world where perennial peace prevails,
It’s indeed a world everyone cherishes.

Rise together with grit, above the walls
Of region, colour, caste and creeds;
Forge together for a world of fraternity,
Void of violence and blood-shed for eternity;
Take an oath to heal the wounds of scourge,
To spread the good news of winds of change,
Far and wide, East and West-
NO MORE WARS- with zeal and zest.