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