THE CONQUISTADORS

THE CONQUISTADORS

Arriving on shores foreign, in gargantuan

Armadas and Galleons with malevolent battalion

Conquistadors sporting golden billowing mane

Skin of rose-blush and of hue champagne

Trumpets and bugles bayed, cannons boomed

Vanquishing a paradise, the natives- doomed!

Knives and daggers in sheaths glistening

Chasms and dismal abyss widening

Pawns to protect the monarch they were Shipped as slaves for emperors and kings…quite unaware…

Wielding swords ruthlessly

Shackled or massacred in the reign of supremacy

Shrivelled and dying, the indigenous were soon a scarcity

Meadows elysian were a graveyard of the unburied

Corpses sprawled were meat for vultures, hunters of brutal herd

Limbs were lifeless and so were their eyes

Scarlet rivers trickled, garishly bloodied were hands of white

My pastures, your blood-soaked battlefield

God you were, God of death, oh agony! Oh heartbreak!

The rain still pours and the sun still shines

The river still flows and the wind fiercely blows…

The leaves rustle, to the echoes I still listen.

Pic Courtesy:ArtoonsInn Poetry Parlour

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