One by one

From Afghanistan, Iraq

Godforsaken places like that

They made it home, most of them,

This time.

But for what?

Destroyed not abroad

Destroyed at home in droves

Coming home to die

Not to live, but to die

One by one.

Their terrible sorrows telling us

That here is not our abiding home,

As beds are made for eternal rest,

In England’s fair fields.

That sacrificed generation of doomed youth

Long lost in blood swept lands

And seas of deep red

Sent to their deaths, en masse,

Dreaming of home

With all their hearts,

Fighting desperately to free our future.

Now their sons and daughters

Come home to die and not to live

Unable to endure horrors seen abroad,

Their hearts routed to the core.

What’s the bloody point?

Anthems of doomed youth continue today

Oh, how the doomed youth of a century past

Turn in their graves.

Have we learnt nothing?

That old lie,

Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori,

Rears its ugly head.

Yet, we learn nothing.

Natasha Haidar © 2019