Someone is singing of the mighty and brave,
Someone is taking a sword to the grave,
While someone is flowered with sweet victories,
Somebody’s soul from the body frees.
Somebody has won and somebody has not,
But fear defeats all, all those who fought,
The dread in the eyes, hides behind complete despite,
The most pitiful. Oh! Such a pitiful sight.
All of the children who are orphaned and starved,
Worse so are all the men who are halved,
blood and sweat aren’t easy to clean,
Years pass by, still the nightmares are seen.
Somebody new will now sit on the throne,
Somebody’s reign is now old and outgrown,
Will the poor peasants like the new king’s face?
Sorry. We don’t look in the eyes of the grace.
Spirited Poetess 