Dear Friend Whose Words Could Flow Like The Currents Of Peaceful Rivers

Dear friend, whose words could flow like the currents of peaceful rivers,
Whose eyes could see all they see in lovely light,
Why have you tied us all in quivers,
In shivers of cold arrows that scream through the night?
 
It seems that many times we've walked this road before
And returned ghosts of dead sons to knock at mother's door;
Limped through the twisted turns of grief
And found our way to walk so casually and repeat.

So earnestly I ask,
 
Can someone quench those fires with the tears of their eyes,
The flickering fires of those star spangled skies?
Can someone raise their hand and cry loud “I object!”
To that falling verdict of star spangled text?

And earnestly I ask,

To those raindrops of war
Fall not upon this world anymore.
Lay our lands in a desert so dry
We cannot grow our children to die.

For from star spangled lands
Call the star twangled bands
To rise to the precipice of their demands;
But before we climb up, let us atleast,
As they struggle for war,
Struggle for peace.

Copyright © 2005 Prabhath Avadhanula