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Window panes of glass are feeling

The heat of molten steel, and

The flames of fire emerging out, are

Indulging in the demonic dance;

The huge piles of debris on the

Ground below, are narrating the tales

Of glorious era of yesterdays;

The frightened people have either left

The place or are hiding beneath

The safe precincts of concrete bunkers,

Looking more resilient than human hearts;

There are some dead bodies lying on

Earth in piles; they were the innocent


who were standing in queue waiting

Patiently for their turn to collect

Groceries, and dreaming to see a

Golden dawn, once again;

Once the flourishing cities will vanish

Soon into the sweeping dust covering

Human civilizations of the past in hundreds;

But the wars will only be a constant

Factor throughout in the journey

Of war ravaged mankind;

The players will continue to play their

Game till the humans will allow

To be the canon fodder, sitting on

The blood-stained spread-sheets of

History of mankind.

Rakesh Chandra

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