POLITICAL Poem: WAR OF GODS, by Armita Khalatbari limaki

Last night, it was the war of the gods.

God of Thunder, shook his lightning whip in the sky.
God of Wind, shouted his proud roar over the world.
God of Earth, with his earthquake, shook the geographical borders.
God of Water, with his waves, lifted the oceans to the sky.
God of Deception, made a barrage of lies appear on the scriptures of normal humanity.
And in this midst, the goddess of the United Nations was expressing her regret for watching the destructive war between powers.

The next morning, however, the war was over. The sun of peace shone through the dark clouds of war. The hands of the gods were washed clean of blood, their hearts free from hatred and the dust of envy, and their eyes were all closed in slumber after satisfying their anger.
Everything was left from fear and expectation, without an owner, and even the explosion of the hollow authority of the powers no longer intimidated anyone. But;

The front page of the newspapers reported about an ordeal that had been reduced to a tattered and worthless peace letter.

The God of Wind had taken the roofs of houses.
The God of Expectation had sowed barren seeds in hearts.
The God of anticipation had struck the field of breasts with a plague of drought, and the earth had suffered a drought of patience and tolerance.
The God of Hunger and Poverty had made truth, fairness, and honesty rare
No one expected to reap the harvest of emotions from the morass of hypocrisy.
The God of Envy had thrown the fruitful trees to the ground. He had spilled the blood of their fruits on soil, and had plunged the young seedlings into a literary sleep.
The lightning bolts of misfortune had destroyed the huts of peace at once, and the storm of controversy had crushed the happiness of the patient people, and he sent away the lanterns of desire, each one to an unknown destination.
Migrant boats were swallowed by the God of seas in mid-journey, and the suitcases of the emigration were left floating on the rivers, emptier than ever without an owner.

The Lord of Stubbornness had framed the message on the door of every house; “War, War Until Victory”, and in every alley, the Lord of adulthood, one by one, had destroyed the memories of the happy childhood days.
We saw that the passage of life had stopped the flow of human optimism. Monks in temples used to bathe newborn babies in the pool of regret like old adults, and the soldiers all kept one of their boots clean and hidden in the closet of their house, and every day the mothers would wipe the dried blood and painful scabs from the sides of their eyelashes.

When the mass graves of Trust had made mankind unnecessary burial ceremonies and coffins, and governments have polluted history with lies, the curse of the survivors of this calamity had been removed from the short-term memory of history, we have seen how the shout of revenge has shattered the sound wall of forgiveness.

Even though the councilors had lined up to remove the smell of gunpowder from unworn clothes and the place of the bullet among the still unread books, and all the war commanders had linked their fake authority with false sanctity, and Leaders were leaning on the throne like a sacred idol, waiting for the sacrifice of their devotees.

We have seen how the thirst for power added to the volume of insolence, and they drank the poisonous wine of slavery sip by sip on the humble throat of their followers, and the guides of the truth also showed us the lie in the profession of truth.
Earth left the moderation orbit, Mistrust, and loneliness brought collective sorrow to mankind, and yet, isolation also lost its own faith in the spirituality of solitude, and there is no safe shore left to dock the boat of dreams.

So this is how mankind realized for the thousandth time that in the war between the gods, the one who never takes a wound is indeed the power. This was a summary of the entire history of humanity.