In War And In Peace

 

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war

i could still hear our boots
marched those streets
wind chills
soaked us and it
rainin’

i sat at the side
eager to absorbed
all what I heard

he coughed a bit
wind moaned

as if a ghost sat beside
and was
ready to listen to a
dozen told tale

“we are at war

nineteen eighty six
and in the late seventies
most of the boys
lost their lives

i was long gone with them.”

i don’t understand

peace

inside a small house
freshman in college
we call
‘a war room’

my old man were long dead
we talked about politics

it could be a new walk
can you walk with us
they asked

eagerly though I’m skeptic
i nodded

we went out on the streets

after few hours dancing in the air
sat on the side

placards lay on my tired hand
throws a long glimpse toward the sky

i think rain come tonight
one of us
positively uttered

we look at him
all eyes raised up
towards the gathering
of the monsoon cloud

droplets started to fell

still i don’t understand

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