No spears for my funeral....

Introduction : Wars are back just when we thought they had been on a backburner. Who are the people that really suffer through it all ? The Leaders ? The Soldiers ? The Diplomats ? ....A short Ode.......

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searching amidst the lead ,iron and red,

a white robe, was all she wore.

sing she did ; a sorrowful lore;

as through the fallen flanks , she meticulously tore.

the plebians ran from the morgue and back.

weren't allowed they ; a moment's slack.

the vultures and vermin , smite the soil.

went down the drain , years of their toil.

the high priest slammed his chamber shut.

jammed it was , with many a ithyphallic precious bust.

the mob , in erastian theocracy ; had lost trust,

came knocking demanding wergeld.

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[Swaswati Borpuzari]

"No spears for my funeral" is a poignant phrase that resonates with a deep sense of personal legacy and the values one wishes to leave behind. It suggests a desire for a funeral that is free from the trappings of militarism, conflict, or aggression. Spears, historically symbols of war and power, are replaced with a more peaceful and meaningful approach to commemorating a life. This could indicate the individual's commitment to pacifism, or it might simply reflect a wish for their loved ones to remember them in a gentler, more serene context. The absence of spears might also symbolize a rejection of the idea of a life lived in constant defense or a desire to be honored for one's contributions to peace and understanding rather than any form of combat or hostility. In essence, the phrase encapsulates a final wish to be remembered as someone who valued harmony and the beauty of human connection over the divisiveness and violence that often accompany the human experience. It is a powerful testament to the values that a person holds dear and the kind of world they hope to leave behind.

 

[Dhruv Bindhani]

Introduction : Wars are back just when we thought they had been on a backburner. Who are the people that really suffer through it all ? The Leaders ? The Soldiers ? The Diplomats ? ....A short Ode.......

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searching amidst the lead ,iron and red,

a white robe, was all she wore.

sing she did ; a sorrowful lore;

as through the fallen flanks , she meticulously tore.

the plebians ran from the morgue and back.

weren't allowed they ; a moment's slack.

the vultures and vermin , smite the soil.

went down the drain , years of their toil.

the high priest slammed his chamber shut.

jammed it was , with many a ithyphallic precious bust.

the mob , in erastian theocracy ; had lost trust,

came knocking demanding wergeld.

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