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An evocative poem, on the socio-political issue, by Saranya, exclusively for Different Truths.
So this is what it has come to?
Erecting victory pillars over battle scars?
This is what you are reduced to,
Oh perfect one! Oh czar of czars!
Weren’t you the one who renounced it all?
Without so much as batting an eye?
Your rightful land, your throne, your ease,
For a mother – like someone’s wistful cry?
Yet now over that very kingdom of plain clay,
They claim kin and rebuild vanity and hearsay,
They assemble in stones an obscene display,
A mortal tribute to an immortal’s array!
I don’t understand the euphoria!
Is this all you are? Oh glorious perfection! The very truth!
An edifice jostling with the mindless, the uncouth?
Is this all it amounts to – your noble pursuits in sooth,
An ironic foundation drowned in a concocted vermouth?
Well then…
Conches will now resound empty chants in your name,
Illicit heirs will now live off your legacy’s borrowed fame,
Chasms will continue to widen, coexistence put to shame,
All for an edifice – a grim scoreboard of a clandestine game!
I don’t understand this euphoria!
Photo from the Internet
