An anti-war protest poem by Martins, for Different Truths.
After fuddled in thought
around 12am,
in the serene night
I depleted my thought
which was flitting through my mind
my thought I proffered no ears
but nature reasoned with me.
When depleted,
it was just like a cannikin tipsy with water
and then disgorged.
Night piggybacked me
decoying me to drift off
and letting me not to take to heart
the scene of dratted, bloody war –
which my eyes caught
in the placid gyring screen
(men were moved to war)
What stirred men to bloody war?
What impelled men to gyre in war?
In the serenity perception of mind
heart will proffer them answer
after the taste of juicy Zobo-Blood
running spill from their heart.
©Martins Tomisin
Photos from the Internet.
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