Orphaned

Clasping his hands in fear
He takes his feet for a walk
Into an alley where darkness reign
And pinch his writhing conscience.
The pain of war left him orphaned
And a place called home became ashes,
His footsteps clearly imprinted in the ashes
And his fear embedded in his conscience.
The war knows no friends or fiends
The clouded blindness promotes only hatred
Irrespective of sides that win
Many still lives the dead life.
The blooming petals of rose
Too gray to expose its glaring red
The dust that sets have taken the bright from it
A sign nature too is not left in war.

The boy is nowhere amidst the battlefield
Every direction he turns with his hands clasped
Bodies and destruction clearly lay
And his vision gradually blurs.
He knows not that this day the bullets and bombs
Grant on him a status for life to be carried along
Losing the family he once born unto
A new status painfully granted, though he realized not that– an orphan.
The clasped hands tells the tale that can never lie
A young mind is dead in the middle of the night
The war kills every hope to lead a decent trail
Unknowingly he clasps his hands in search of light,

An orphan takes his feet for a walk
Into an alley where darkness reign
And pinch his writhing conscience.


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