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
People,
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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