Vee Bdosa Poet Sonnet

Sarajevo City of Palaces

SARAJEVO - CITY OF PALACES
Each hall in every palace is a death
that's been for cen'tries; never ask it why;
it leads the hearts of men, in ev'ry breath
to join the call to arms, and go to die.

and what has led them on is what's been willed
to handed down, and what's been going on;
the shackles then are forged,  the cup is filled
to overflowing with each troubled dawn.

Why else but Sarajevo is the cause?
Division of a way of life they live,
if you should ask them why, they say it was,
and so it is; it's all that life can give.

The beauty that was Sarajevo's charm
will come and go with every call to arm.
© Ron Arbuthnot aka Ron Wilson

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Vee Bdosa January 18, 2015 at 7:17 AM And so sad, George, that the West still does not even know it died. So much happens in this, one of the most beautiful places on the planet, but we just do not see.

Emile Pinet January 17, 2015 at 12:13 PM A sad, sullen poem casually reflecting on the mysteries and miseries of life in Sarajevo. Emile.