Our Unholy Grails

How weird is world history
Mottled with battles and tragedy
Millions died with senseless fury

Why at one tyrant’s blithely writ
Hordes run towards certain death?
Purging out blind faiths
When surged as mindless blitzes
How many lives went underneath?
Cramming from core to the mantle
The mute bearer, Mother Earth

We no longer drink sweet Adam’s ale
Filled are our grails with our ancestors’
Bitter blood and baleful tales

poem by Sathya NarayanaReport problemRelated quotes
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