A thousand soldiers, five remained
The rest were buried without names
Scorched red flesh under the blinding sun
And they said we were the lucky ones
Burned salt stains on my cheek
Last night’s wounds still run deep
Dry tongue, blazing skin
Heart barely beating
Fool’s war, no one wins
Breath swiftly fleeting
The moon in the west fights the sun in the east
Strike too hard, scream too loud
What makes a man and what makes a beast?
Why should we be proud?
This poem was inspired by the brutal wars of colonialism and dedicated to all the lives lost from selfishness and greed. The idea actually came to me while I was writing “Moonlight Queen”, but it has a darker theme.