A stain that shan't fade
Their blood, that never shall dry
Can art ever die?
The hut is silent
The scent of gunpowder is strong
They throng at the morgue.
They eye him ominously
He fights the names and their games
Burning in the raging flames.
They fight, they argue
Quick to blame, to point fingers
For fear still lingers.
Her lips, they quivered
Outstretched hands as she shivered
Despair delivered.
A cold winter night
Cold pavement, they huddle tight
Man and dog in plight.
Dull and dreary day
-Hot tea steals me away
From thoughts of dismay.
About the post: This post is reminiscent of my thoughts around the recent events of the day and the season. Would've loved to start the year with a cheerful blog post but I'm not exactly feeling any cheer right now. Tough times for humanity across the world, we need to stay strong.
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