Solemn say some, sacrosanct for others – blessed by the forefathers not far from the banks of River of Jordan,
Hunger pangs many, poverty copious and plenty – blessings, like a distant dream, seek an earnest pardon.
Blood besmirches lands parched, missiles resound where Holy Hymns once reverberated,
Smile beguiles the angst beneath – confluence of Holy Forces; ere this melancholy goes unabated.
Seeking Peace!
2 comments:
Moving ...
Brother mine, your humanity shines
Brightly, so very brightly, through these lines.
You speak of melancholy going unabated, I beg to differ
The Holy Hymns still guide and console, I aver.
How else can they go on?
Having seen so much misery, how else can they hold on?
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