War is often dressed up in the language of honor, glory, and patriotism — yet beneath the banners and speeches lies a darker, more devastating truth. This poem strips away those illusions, confronting the reader with the raw images of suffering, dehumanization, and the heavy price of conflict. War has always left behind more than just ruins — it leaves scars on bodies, minds, and generations yet to come. This poem confronts those unspoken truths with stark honesty, peeling back the veil of patriotism to reveal the human cost of conflict. In its verses, the silenced voices of victims and witnesses rise to remind us that peace is not an abstract ideal, but an urgent necessity. This poem does not whisper comfort; it asks us to see clearly, to feel deeply, and to remember that Peace is not passive
Pro Matria Mori
When a bid ends and a man walks down
Head low, in rags, to among the suits
When the chains on his hands grow heavier than
the weight of voices screaming abuse.
When young eyes have to see that the world ain’t free –
The parents who would sit them on one knee
Now a puddle of blood, organs in pieces,
Teeth on the floor and fleas on feces.
When the roar of the engines suppresses the noise
That can barely be heard from within one’s heart
Saying the aircraft you’re flying kills, destroys,
That’s when man and mind grow worlds apart
That’s when man and mind grow worlds apart
When you see the souls that cannot digest
The notion of atrocities worse, slowly,
You’ll see the lie: Dulce et decorum est Pro patria mori.
Poet Details
- Daryl Jane Bukelo
- 10th grade,in GEMS Modern Academy, Dubai
- 15 years old
