Art’s Grace


Posted on: December 19, 2009

With no art on my hand to express pain, I took up the grief of people who fall prey to wars between nations or borders. An effort to express the sight that I had watched though not with my eyes but the telecast of Gulf war and few after that.


Blazing Dawn turns to dusty dusk,
Storming through air on bosom it falls;
all the night like gorgon sharks,
fighters shoot fire balls.

Breaking bonds, dividing the land,
spilling blood on smoky lane,
where shall civilization safely stand,
leaving wounds of anger and pain?

Some alive here  many die there,
so many loose and one wins there,
there they are in last breathe
here we long for fresh air.

They attack on our home,
They tear into our flesh,
some lie alone friendless,
some are shattered, homeless.

Blazing dawn turns to dusty dusk.


2 Responses to "War"

“so many loose and one wins there” How true that line is. The one who wins has really not won anything….has he? Thank-you for your poem. You are certainly multi-talented.

This is the question ” who wins in a battlefield?” And has he really won anything?

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