There is no pain you're receding. A distant ship smoke on the horizon. You're only coming through in waves, your lips move but I can't hear what you're saying. When I was a child, I caught a fleeting glimpse. Out of the corner of my eye, I turned to look but it was gone. I cannot put my finger on it now, the child is grown, the dream is gone..

Monday, July 22, 2013

The Black Clouds of Death.

The following is based on the events that took place in Uttarakhand, after the disastrous cloud burst that took the lives of countless pilgrims, villagers and rescuers..

The black clouds of death that struck with bad fate,
Marks the beginning of Lucifer's merciless estate.

For the passel of people dying, the food is found nowhere,
The water running over the cold corpses is stained red everywhere.

In the cold, icily numb winds of the Himalayan ranges,
A little frost bitten girl descends the slopes steep and estranged.

To those countless pilgrims who could never see the new day,
The light faded from their eyes, forever ending their way.

A lonely father weeps for his loss that he cannot measure,
His lovely daughter being his life's sole treasure.

In the debris, the children are still buried deep and cold,
The gorge reverberates with the pain of souls, evanesced and sold.

Near the distant horizon, the black clouds finally settle down,
Marking the events of the act of God, that ended life in a town.

The hair raising cries of anguish and melancholic despair,
Shall forever echo in the destroyed valley, where deaths are beyond repair..