About The Blog

Arthor Journer is my pen name.
"Arthor" comprises "art" + "Author" while "Journer" defines the journey that I was on and continue to travel.
In this blog is the emotional byproduct of this journey.

"Rites of Art" is the title because it is my "writes" of passage.

Saturday, January 19, 2008

Mothers and Sons

Close to Blood River on the rocks of its tender shores
Mothers and sons hold each other as their tears pour
The mounds will be adorned with bright dying flowers
But memories will echo in their mind past the hours
The elite will scream in the name of peace and freedom
Although behind their delicate mask they will confess who won
Heroes will sing their victory song over the lost and dead
Yet the ones they saved still will starve for water and bread
In unknown tongues they will chant as in times past
But the glory that rolls from parched throats will never last
Judges and juries will pass sentence on the war crimes
Even though jailed the poor will be captive without a dime
Bombs continue to seek the innocent in the dead of night
Ambassadors and chancellors will respond to the ambivalent invites
Planes will target while tanks bravely stand guard
Borders in minds will be raped as hearts grow hard
When they look into the mirror in this destroyed place
Will they see the different hearts but still one face?
Lives traded for pride death bought with land
Children once played now lay in dunes of sand
Bombs the only gift to grant freedom
Both too pride full and stubborn to yield
Even with the brothers and mothers killed
Both paying a bill that neither can really afford
Though both pray to the same yet different lords
Like the tears the retreating army may run
But not before the heartless sacrifice of mothers and sons

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