Blood Feud (a poem)

I don’t know how this war started

but I know its ultimate end –

blood feud over pieces of land,

lustful for riches in the sand,

exploitation of earth,

mass machines churning

in desolate fields –

the blood-lines go back

to blood-stained Europe,

find the agonized place

on the map, nestled in valleys

where primordial evil

was spawned with one fateful,

violent act –

sins of fathers travel with us until

the sun dies, the moon crumbles

to space dust, leaving us

alone, afraid and forgotten

(Photo by Paweł Czerwiński on Unsplash)


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