Poetry – The Brigands

The Brigands

 

The brigands charged down the hill,

Swords raised,

With chilling battle cries,

Thundering hooves.

Callously and gleefully they butchered men, women and children,

Set fire to huts,

Raped, tortured and looted.

But those were the days of long ago.

 

Nothing changes.

Except, now they use drones

And ‘peacekeepers’.

 

Opher – 12.7.2020