Ancient fort
surrounding the top of a mount,
reminding the formation of  an invading army,
built on queer shaped steep rocks.
Sedimented  layers of silence
centuries old, lay heaped all-round
unnoticed by dazed visitors.
Tales of blood, tears and heartbreaks
this fort has told aloud,
reverberated through the hill sides
for many successive generations,
making silent nights fill with
the sobbing sounds of village folks,
have now become muted.
This ancient fort is a memorial
of many things, men and women of yore-
marked with their lives;
valor, honor, and courage,
taking death as the answer to many vexing questions.
A time when '**** and get killed in a heroic fight'
was above all other dictates of life.

Dragon flies in swarms,
like the reincarnation of soldiers
killed in hundreds in internecine wars,
invade the skies above the fort,
in a manic mood of war.

I close my eyes,
obliterate time and space
just for a moment
and see darkness,mourning the death of light.
**Who will dream lasting peace now at least-
to make  all wars come to an end?
perhaps, countless forts, castles and garrisons, around the globe,
once shed blood, that flowed like rivers in all our lands.