When brutal spirits are worn by men,

To burn and chop and kill;

When brothers change to brothers-in-arm,

To slew and bleed with chill;

When men start to kill at will,

To end their scores forever;

It brings there a brutal change,

Which ends never in seamless range;

Men feel the blood far and near,

My friend this is a brutal war.


Sometimes it is for endless greed,

Sometimes it is for social creed;

Men-women fight for endless power,

My friend this is a brutal war.


It is the son of malice seed,

Let’s kill it like a poisonous weed;

It ends not in days, month or hour,

My friend this is a brutal war.


Guns go up only for dirty deeds,

It bears no fruit we are in need;

Blood tastes not sweet,

It’s only sour;

My friend this is a brutal war.


Let’s not all  go too much insane,

Come let us end this endless bane;

And feel the peace near and far,

My friend this was a brutal war.


By: Vyom Agarwal and Sharad Shukla

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