Malik

Free-verse poem of a warrior

Brave warrior, rolled into a ball
With sword and spear lying nearby;
Fetal position, with your knees
Pressed hard under your chin;
Tears running from your eyes
Sideways across the bridge of your nose,
Smashing on the ground
Beneath your bleeding head.
War; you wanted war.
You were not satisfied with talk,
You wanted war? You got war.
A cruel jape of a leader;
Now, your people lying dead
All around, as far as the eye can see
And your dripping blood
Will make the sacrifice needed
To appease the gods and free your soul
That, perhaps on this eternal journey,
You may return as something more useful
Than the leader of those who follow…
Perhaps something like a book:
Like the Tao Te Ching, whose words
Direct the people to peace, with love
And harmony, teaching them to talk
Instead of war, to pray instead of fight,
To make every effort to avoid conflict
And the shedding of innocent blood.
Brave warrior, rolled into a ball
With sword and spear lying nearby;
Fetal position, knees under your chin,
Limp, as your lifeless body grows cold
And your blood and tears soak the ground…
Tell your god about the mistake you made.