War is over! Loud the victors’ cry, their long assault is ended,
Trumpets blast and bugles blow, as weary heroes stagger homeward,
Barren fields they leave behind, the maimed and sick in
hopeless terror,Red the earth of death and sorrow,
cold the tomb for life’s enclosure,
Ruined towns and gutted homes, with solemn tales of desperate bravery,
Giant armies, skilful weapons, battles won in gruesome fury,
Shamed the vanquished midst their people; loss of courage, low their measure,
12
Oct 2011
(Trochee - a stressed syllable followed by an unstressed one.
This poem is a trochaic
octameter : 8 trochees per line).
(Trochee - a stressed syllable followed by an unstressed one.
This poem is a trochaic
octameter : 8 trochees per line).
2 comments:
The contradictions inherent in war, the glory and gore, the valour and the irony of it all captured movingly here. Nishu Mathur
Thank you, Nishu. I wrote a few poems about wars in the past few years and my daughter helped post them on my blog. She said it would be boring for readers having to read such dreary stuff day in and day out and advised me not to post them on facebook all at once. I still have one more to go - and after that I will be going on to happier topics like nature. I have great admiration for the brave soldiers but I've always felt there is a no-win situation at the end of a war.
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