The Tragedies Of Futile War

By Moiz Poonawala

Old grouchy leaders on mighty thrones preside,

Foot soldiers helplessly salute and abide .

Old men Drunk with absolute power in hand,

Wage futile wars , to claim some godforsaken land

Leaders speak of patriotic noble cause ,

But War is often waged to hide their obvious flaws .

Steel bites bone , but not for truth,

It only robs the cradle, starves the youth

A father digs , with trembling hands , 

Dreading what lays buried in the ruins and sands ,

A doll lays torn , besides the burning flame, 

His little princess , once she had a pretty name .

A Widows weeping wail, pierces hearts like an arrow, 

An orphaned mother's fretful cries

Will her fighting son , see another tomorrow ?

A child pleads and clings to his lifeless dad ,

Begs him not to go , not to betray his lad . 

Orphans left , to fend in this world unjust, 

Father's gone, laid to rest ,in the blood soaked dust. 

Tears and fears , spread like a rabid plague, 

To define lines on maps , and  borders vague!

What madness reigns in the cursed , war torn lands

Cities bustling with life , razed to piles of rubble, and half buried hands

The soil drinks blood with unquenchable thirst,

Cheering for more, the roaring cannons burst

Filthy old men in power , fill coffers with gold 

The common man bears grief, and miseries untold!

War always leaves , souls with a scorching scar

Blissful peace eludes , in the distance far !

Like herded cattle ,we march and we fall

Never questioning why we fight at all !

By Moiz Poonawala