*The Anatomy of Peace*

*The Anatomy of Peace* War is sadly a Vulture’s prophecy, Believing it a destiny is no less hypocrisy, Raging egos foster a ruinous fantasy, Raze, rubble and ravage sucks all ecstacy. Kings order the war for peace, Generals set the goals with ease, Knights merrily join the rage, Vultures welcome all with great amuse. Roaring conches stir the combat fever, Galloping Horses neigh with valour, Mighty elephants trumpet colossal fervor, Scorching arrows arouse horror, Fiery Spears steer the rear. Sheaths beget the brutal swords, That jolt the conscience of the opposing lords, Bravehearts sprint ahead braving all odds, To live in the ballads of the folklore bards. Arms maker makes merry of the grief, Trader feeds on the scarcity of the strife, While Dalal catalyses the great mischief, Envoy sets out an impossible relief, All in the name of peace is no disbelief. Widow knows the agony of the child, While pain of the limbless is no mild, Blood soaked mud paints the nature wild, Wolves roam around the dead bodies piled, Hapless poor awaits God with life derailed, Peace is the only thing that gets availed. Saying “war changes with times” is not fair, As it only spread from the land to the air, King is rechristened to be the Premier, Only to add proverbial democratic flavour, Power never rusts with the change of chair, As the bloody sword never rests in despair, Mind of the warmonger is very clear, To tell all that delay will make peace dear. Kings live in palaces basking in glory, Heroes live in ballads donning their own story, Victors wine and dine with ceaseless merry, Nobles feast on the swollen treasury, Countryfolks die of living in endless misery, All await another war amidst peaceful mockery!! *Why is peace so short-lived and war-prone?* War is not about the arms as its backbone, Rather, it's hunger for power that we adorn, When the man was in the wild alone, The malady of ‘self’ was yet to be grown, As nothing important was of his own, And not scared of loosing and bemoan. Soon had the greed for the land, Lines were drawn to have a free hand, Lost no time to muster men at his command, Held sway over it calling it the homeland, Colour, race, region, religion and what not ! No symbols left unused to keep his flock tight, Bound the emotions with morals of the right. When veiled peace calls for a narration, The clergy said it is the religion, The patriots said it is the nation, The Facists said it is the racial origin, Countless many said nothing with suffocation, Does coronation of power care for confirmation? In the endless game of power, Peace is the best bait, War sets the things straight, And keeps the slavery forever tight, Who knows the promised peace the best, Maybe those who are laid to rest !! ✍️ Ram.