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Ares' Region

If hell is the place
to deprive men of their human nature 
the battlefield swarming with dehumanized souls 
is hell; and is in the real world, 

hell is the hungry stray dogs licking blood on corpses
and vultures ingurgitating rotten flesh from the corpses scattered 
around on the ruins; then, it would be the place where Ares reigns.

The cowardly Ares always conceals himself
behind the madness of the battle cry: enjoys watching
the sparks flying; swords crossing; he drives warriors into 
harm’s way; binding their fear; imposing military order, exploiting 
the absolute ranking system.

Ares compels them to exchange their only life 
given by their mother with a piece of rotten earth  
covering their terror-stricken soul with the flag named Patriotism

there is no friend or enemy in a momentary lulled battleground 
you won’t see a friend or enemy, except dead or alive, 
however, dead ones won’t say a word because they are dead 
while alive ones groan and moan and cry out a beast’s howl
and in a such battleground, in the ruins where the time ceased 
to move

a mother sobs while gathering her son’s scattered remains, 
the mother searches for the son’s victimized soul,
becoming a waning moon in this solemn moment.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2015




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Date: 12/30/2015 12:30:00 PM
Su Ben, awesome poem... Happy New Years... Always ~LINDA~
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Su Ben
Date: 12/30/2015 3:38:00 PM
Thank you, but I am sad. I wish you have a happy new year and all your wishes come true. Su

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry