Tuesday, February 21, 2006

The War

















A thought,

Conflicting...

Is it really?
A scuffle,

Indispensable...

Is it really?

A battle,

Intense...

Is it really?

A cause,

Unbovious...

Is it really?

A man,

Confident...

Is it really?

A life,

Unimportant...

Is it really?

A charge,

Unimposed...

Is it really?

A destruction,

Unexpected...

Is it really?

A night,
Unpassable...

Is it really?

A struggle,

Unnerving...

Is it really?
A victory,

Unachieved...

Is it really?

A loss,
Unwanted...

Is it really?

A dawn,

Usual...

Is it really?

A day,
Indifferent...

Is it really?

Another night,

Another battle,
Or the same...

Only dead see,

The End Of War...!!!

Wednesday, February 01, 2006

The Morning













A new sunrise,

another dawn,
Eyes semi-opened,
A morning yawn.

Silence,
I no longer could hear,
The unusual voices,
sleep could hardly bear.

An uncanny mourning,
in air prevailed,
My thoughts,
in all directions sailed.

I heard his whining,
I could hear him cry,
Restlesness, any further,
forbade me to lie.

I jumped out of bed,
to follow the voice,
Slowly, hesitant,
certainly not by choice.

Every step,
made the cry louder,
I walked down the backyard,
he sounded familiar.

Miles away,
a human figure,
Sat by a tombstone,
crying, I thought, was de rigueur.

Awe developed into shock,
shock moulded to fear,
The voice echoed within me,
as the silhoutte drew near.

I began to run,
at the best of my pace,
In the opposite direction,
avoiding a glance at his face.

But moments could I run,
then tripped over a rock,
Unmoved, I lay there,
unconsciousness, a while, did I mock.

How could he be omnipresent,
I desired to run away,
Why only now, I feared,
how can today be the day?

And then I had to give up,
it was no ordinary stone,
In bold, it had my name carved,
and the face of the man was my own.

By my own grave,
I sat down and cried.........