Sunday, 15 July 2012

Poetry 2012, Longlist Anmol Arora

Way of The World

We called them heroes
Swore by their names.
What of money and fame
honour was their game.
 
They dreamt the impossible dream
nurtured it to life
With sweat and blood they toiled
Each day and every night.
 
They withstood the questions of time,
Fury of foes.
Added strength of character
to the sharpness of their willows.
 
Victorius they returned
To garlands and spectacles.
Revelry was tribal
Even if the toil wasn’t.
 
Those times are past
The chinks in the armor are glaring
In utter disbelief,
The believer is staring.
 
As vultures mark the gods of yore
We turn our backs; unable to endure.
Such is way of the world
Remember children of morrow.

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