Category : Poems

Sub Category : N/A

Violence has become a culture.
Our Peace is victimised by a vulture
Violece a hero of war, but villain of peace.
Peace is a rare treasure as a gem.

I see violence's only seed.
It's easy to tell through his deed.
The pregnant war is about to give birth to death... 
Alas death is alive and well.
Where then shall we dwell?

Here is death the son of violence.
Mayhap he may kill us in peace and not with violence.
This is , but a sign of war.
I see the symbol of woe.

No negotiation with death he kills the possiblities of birth.
Come hither, sons of men let us kill death from the earth.
Prepare for a peaceful war sons of men.

Lest, he may give us up to the hands of the grave.
We shall fight death unto the grave for we are brave.
Let us kill death before he kills us.
We shall beckon life to kill death.
We shall summon peace to incarcerate violence.

We shall not dine with death in the world of the dead.
Our existence shall be his extinction.
From our presence should he abide aside.
We shall proclaim the death of death, his dead now.
No one should attend death's funeral nor shall we bury his corpse.

Let the cultures of vultures be the eating of death's corpse.
Pile a stone of mountain and let his blood flow as a fountain. 
Let us celebrate in jubilation the death of the monster death.