Last updated:

October 24, 2024

Peace – A poem by Zhakan Baran Malkshahi

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Jakan Baran Malekshahi

Constant coughs

Dirty throat

Bloody phlegm

The weather of these days on earth…

Earth;

This greedy old man with a crooked nose

Whose rivers are streams of blood

His houses are prisons, his prisons are cells

The cells are cold and damp dungeons

His law is the jungle, his jungles are full of sharp wood

Rulers

Hidden behind the mask of freedom

They have raised flags of peace

Over mass graves

Every moment with a heavenly book

In the war of gods

And like bats in the darkness of night from horses,

Drunk, they spill blood

Of people who have become the shields of religions

Generals

They are the conductors of terror and out of fear of being forgotten

They play the symphony of death

On the lifeless stage of the city

Every house is a house

That rises to dance

With the sound of roaring cannons

So

Admin
June 23, 2019

Peace Poetry Zakan Baran Malkshahi پیمان صلح ماهنامه خط صلح ماهنامه خط صلح