Bomb blast

Beautiful day, made of clay
Clouds, laden, and gray,
Thunders roared,
Birds, lively and gay,
High with the wind, soared

I didn’t notice it….

I had a mission to do.
One of the chosen few
Passion reigned
Reasons refrained
To butt in.

I had made my choice

It is not what we meant to be
It is just what we do
Not for any personal gain
It is a necessary bane

We believe in our cause.

Was that not the only clause
That your mind gives?
What is it that makes you right?
The bloodshed, the pain, the fight?

It is your belief alone.

I believed in this rhetoric
holding on to the dream,
Rise that would be meteoric
Tantalizing, to extreme

I was the sacrifice

The hero who will be lauded
for years to come,
What was it that clouded?
my senses! Was I always so dumb?

I was a bomber

The harbinger of death
You thought it was a threat?
Like million leaves, they flew
Like stars they stud the afternoon sky
And like rain returned to earth.

A crimson canvas I painted,
With colors of steel,
Moans and groans detailed it
Countless arms in the garbage pit;
littered , shivered and then rot.

I never ever looked back

That innocent laughter,
Innocuous chatter
Lost forever,
in the streams of a red river

Broken arms that peeped through
Empty structures,
And dreams, fractured, beyond recognition
Lurked in,
Empty eyes

A baby doll quivered,
Dangled at the edge,
fell like in movies ,
In a slow motion
The only remains, of mindless love
Scarred , disfigured.

Pain, i never thought could choke your breath.
I welcomed it always, but just not yet,
Not of this kind.
What words do I find,
What do I say ?
How do I face that expectant eyes?
The ever trusting eyes that awaits,
the echoes of my footstep?
And the tinkle of the anklet.

As tears burned my cheeks
And heaven joined with me
My only child dear,

burnt with me….

It happened on a rainy day,
The flame in my heart consumed me
And yet it doomed

My baby girl..

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4 Comments

  1. i agree with neeraja…
    if i say something unapt.. the beauty of this post will be ruined…!

  2. “A baby doll quivered,
    Dangled at the edge,
    fell like in movies ,
    In a slow motion
    The only remains, of mindless love
    Scarred , disfigured. ” – amid the largeness and madness of brainwashed weak minds and life-threatening schemes, you have more than commendably summed in these lines which are quaint, small and almost anonymous. But that’s how much an individual’s life is worth these days isn’t it? Not even a pittance?! Like a doll!

    I loved the ending too… you have an uncanny knack of making them subtly surprising or hard-hitting but nevertheless befitting to the work at hand

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