Pale moon kept
hiding behind
the thicket of clouds,
being constantly
twisted and turned
by renegade winds

Silence fell
intermittently,
may be after
every defeat
or victory perhaps
depending
on the side,
one could only guess

There were booming
of guns, explosions
sounds of vehicles
rushing to all sides
creating panic.
Pain was the language
cried out aloud,
well understood
At all times
smell of death would spread
like a trail of smoke
from an extinguished wick.
It thickened the darkness
by desperately crying out for light.

"Are we winning or losing?"
a voice in the darkness
in agony whined,
not knowing which way
wind blows
or  when all would
mercifully  end;
that question has
already rendered meaningless
by the reign of dark forces.

Was there a whistle
signifying naught?
a whisper spread
all around like a mantra
"Nada..nada.."

Then came a long silence
nobody seemed to answer
or know what to tell.