Once you were a blazing fire,
Undoused by fear or favour,
Fuelled by ideals which our priests decried,
But one day History would savour,
You burnt your way ,through the backwoods of death,
Where the smoky memories, remind us with every breath,
That you were the slayer, of the darkness that came,
But your brightness blinded, our future just the same.
You abandoned us without a trail,
Let your legacy grow beyond stale,
And as the world crumbled without sight,
The blind bickered about the light.
Yet , real is our love to claim,
But fickle is our spark,
Don’t let us be a gamble of cosmic proportions,
In your battle against the dark.
Dec 26, 2014
Dec 26, 2014 at 10:22 AM UTC
Once you were a blazing fire,
Undoused by fear or favour,
Fuelled by ideals which our priests decried,
But one day History would savour,
You burnt your way ,through the backwoods of death,
Where the smoky memories, remind us with every breath,
That you were the slayer, of the darkness that came,
But your brightness blinded, our future just the same.
You abandoned us without a trail,
Let your legacy grow beyond stale,
And as the world crumbled without sight,
The blind bickered about the light.
Yet , real is our love to claim,
But fickle is our spark,
Don’t let us be a gamble of cosmic proportions,
In your battle against the dark.
Written in light of the United States Intervention in Iraq , from an Iraqi Perspective.
Request permission to use this poem