Tuesday, September 15, 2009

Frozen tears


Ravages of war

Concealed between the wrinkles,

Thundering bullets

Cause tremor in his voice.

Uncongeniality of war

Set tears rolled down his face

At each pull of the trigger

A mother lost a son.

Years passed by without an answer

To many ‘whys’ of the past,

Gone indeed the fiery youth

In wasted blood fiercely buried.

He remembered the last moment

Of the last day of war

When he fired his last bullet

Which he mistakenly shot his own comrade.

Unbearable indeed the pain

Vague past left him not

For the memories are stitched

To the soul.

Before he cast the body

An epistle he wrote

To his dead comrade

He wished his friend would read that.

Inked with spilled sorrow

He flowed with words

Over the pages his apology rewritten

Building ramparts of unwritten tears.

He folded the letter

To the size of the envelope

Gently slid it in

And sealed with love.

The letter sat before him,

Never to be opened again,

Forever propped against a coffee mug

In tears the soul has merged with time

Only eternity bears witness to this.

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