Phantoms in the sky
Elders say the drone people give my country money, that is why they kill us, under the guise of keeping world peace.
There is again a funeral in my town,
Of the three people,
Who died last night in the raid,
Of the phantom dark planes,
That fly themselves.
When I hear them
Above the majestic mountains in my land,
It is useless to hide,
As they kill indiscriminately.
A few months back
My father was exultant,
That my country had chosen a leader
Who had pledged to take a stand,
Against the people who control the machines
That fly these ghostly apparitions called drones.
But now he feels disillusioned and deceived,
That the seemingly trustworthy, infallible leader
Went to the land of these deadly drones
Dressed just like the drone people.
And did not demand
To have the drones stopped.
So that we wouldn’t have to walk on eggshells
Day and night,
In our own land.
I wonder why my leader was so ashamed to talk
To the drone people who are
Shameless enough to kill.
The elders say the drone people give
My country money,
Which makes us apologetic and sheepish,
Even when we ask them not to slay
Our young and our old,
Under the guise of keeping world peace.
So have we sold our souls
To the devil who is now free to kill us?
But, sometimes I do wonder
That if we have to die anyway,
Why don’t we die for the country?
Rather than in the country.
Like the soulless, insensate sitting bait
That we have become.
Why do we have to die namelessly,
Like unarmed cowards in our own land?
That is raided,
By the self-proclaimed warriors in the skies.
That strike on dark, moonless nights,
Silently when we sleep.
And on warm, bright days,
When we are awake.
Today I heard my father dishearteningly say
That we will probably have to wait
Another five years for a leader,
Who might be braver to stand up
To the drone people.
I hope I live to see the day,
When the skies are manned
By the soldiers of my own country.
Rather than the dark, sinister
Phantoms that rule us by night with machines,
And by day with their money.
I cower for fear for the time when these phantoms
Decide to raid my country by land,
Instead of by sky.
I wonder if my leaders will still continue then,
To dress like the leaders of the drones.
And smile with them in pictures,
Because they pay us money to do so.
I hope I don’t live to see that day...