Silent Conversation of Two Wounded Soldiers

Motherland
is ruined to ground and I’ve only an hour or less 
to spend my life. 

The enemy of my people, a bit stronger 
and seems happy to have more time 
to live his, stands before me.

I always thought that great Allah 
was with me; I’m a faithful Muslim. He is 
a devoted Christian. I saw him, ere we exchanged 
bullets of anger, intently calling to his 
Father (household name of his so called God)

Now, we’re slaving ourselves, thinking. 

With our guns pointing at each other, 
would he let me live, or would I let him go?  

Ah, what are we goin’ to do with our short 
remaining breath, continue killing each other 
or mend our wounds?

Or, should we still ask the god(s)
to solve these issues at hand?
Copyright © | Year Posted 2008

Poem

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Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace