Song & Death

A shadow pitch black, the sun trekking up the mountains,

The braked trickle of incessant sweat-

Pungent and refusing to obey gravity;

As the old warrior receded to his rustic roots, learning

Defeat was overrated and valor glorified-

Only her songs still rang in his ears.

His gunshots misfired, clouds sheathed the weapons

Vulnerable tents veiled the tense, his pretense-

Up all night, measuring his breath, decaffeinated-

Listening to crickets chirping, and other unknown animals

All tied in a common thread, a rhythm-

Only her songs still rang in his ears.

Unending battles turning gory each day,

Demotivating wait at the behest of political mercy

Death no longer prime, cries stopped shattering skies

Bodies and souls covertly meeting in transience

At the death of the dark, while the sun was away

Only her songs still rang in his ears.

Promise of opulence the state left unfulfilled,

Men drearily dragged him to his hut,

In a box wrapped in colored cloth;

She opened the doors to shocking silence

And the numbing discomfort eased only as-

Her songs rang in his ears.