Silken wraps on finite form,
Relax in the lull before the storm,
Stately warriors hear…wars dreaded call,
Lions of war…animals maul.
The proud…the brave,
No one could save,
Battlefields of blood,
Human dust…without a grave,
It’s just a game,
Folly, but no crime,
Who will take the blame?
For the warmongers son’s still shine.
The Maniacs that fight,
And savages that bite,
Have all but lost their sight,
In images, no one considers right.
When all is said and done,
A good war cannot be won.
Just some lose less
In hostilities that only, the devil will bless.
End of the poem
15 random poems
- Pelleas And Ettarre poem – Lord Alfred Tennyson poems
- Алишер Навои – Эти губы точно розы
- phantasm.html
- “Life of my life, you seem to me” by Torquato Tasso
- Paula Becker To Clara Westhoff
- Vacillation by William Butler Yeats
- Lines For Winter by Mark Strand
- Омар Хайям – Коль станешь твердым
- Absence poem – Amy Lowell poems | Poems and Poetry
- Владимир Маяковский – Проверь, товарищ, правильность факта
- Иван Киуру – Звездный полет
- Юрий Верховский – Ах, душечка моя, как нынче мне светло
- To The Rev. Mr. Newton, On His Return From Ramsgate by William Cowper
- Some Kiss We Want by Rumi
- Home They Brought Her Warrior Dead poem – Lord Alfred Tennyson poems
Some external links:
Duckduckgo.com – the alternative in the US
Quant.com – a search engine from France, and also an alternative, at least for Europe
Yandex – the Russian search engine (it’s probably the best search engine for image searches).
