Foreversonnets

From conflict's agony, young spectres softly keen,

Their tender plaints, across epochs' heartstrings rent,

"What sins are ours?" their fading gaze unseen,

By sorrow's flood, their promised joys are spent.

For mammon's greed, a game of ruthless sway,

Their blossoms torn by engines' fiery breath,

Their starry hopes, now cloaked in dim dismay,

Their birthright sold, on thorny beds of death.

What reason finds, in eyes that well and weep?

Those roseate lids, wherein gentle slumber flees,

Once radiant as dawn, now gloams swiftly creep,

For meagre crumbs they sigh, for sweet release.

Haste, then, oh haste! let righteous thunder roll,

Mend this wrong, ere vengeance takes its toll.

-----Affaq 

#ClassicPoetry #Sonnets