Wrath To Wailing Poem by Neha m.k

As the sword rose
above the bed
pointing towards the dead


A hymn I chant
to cure my friend
from the deadly warfare


Soldier for the rest
but a friend in my chest
a brave young man
laid there dead

Among all the other men
smeared in red
with a lack of breath
and a beat in the chest

Lay millions miles away
from where I dragged
by the hand
to the temple gate

A soldier, a friend, a brother had died
leaving his child and wife
barren but yet alive

Saved his state
he did it well
but to what extent?

But there is a person
to be blamed
people of the world
who know nothing but fame

Through the ashes
they burn eyelashes
of those whose families they sustain

My friend I dragged
to the temple gate
where I let him lay

His last he breathed
of this bloody air
which had betrayed many men

A wrath to wailing
as I gave in
covering my mouth as I screamed big
washing my anger I thanked god
for giving me yet another chance
to make peace with my heart