The green field I used to frolic and play
Now shrouded in darken clouds greyed
With soil planted with nothing but graves
Vine and stone tablets with epitaphs engraved

Small and white,
Their scent a delight,
Blooms at night.
String  them with your hand,
In your wedding garland.
Pluck these fragile flowers,
As offers,
On the graves of your loved ones,
Light a scented candle when done.

my bones will settle into the ground
remains of an unnamed turned to dust
but will they even remember
a man whose cause was brave
a man who died in vain

what is left of us now?
forgotten deeds
and desecrated graves.

We are right…by Jessie 1/07

Countries gather, analyzing strategic battle plans
Soldiers at their ready, to follow the command
Families waiting eagerly, in hopes of a reprieve
Where countries settle differences and let each other be
Everyday, tensions rise, to the point of no return
People crossing bridges, which, eventually are burned
We are right and you are wrong…until you are willing to concede
This war, which seems inevitable, by my orders, will proceed
Go home and give your loved one’s, a hug and say good bye
Get all your things in order, in the off chance you will die
Hurry back and mobilize, there is no time to waste
We have to start this war, before the people lose their taste
Years have passed and sons are now, changing out the guard
Finding space in cemeteries, for both sides, has been hard
Tell me…why are we all fighting? And why does it go on?
I can’t remember, doesn’t matter, the point is… they are wrong

On Thursday evening
I pray near a Grave in Kashmir
Incense sticks
And candles
Lit in bundles
Aroma makes me feel
As I kneel

This is land of my forefathers
Where they rest
I too look for a place nearest
I belong to these graves
Here my soul craves
To sleep till eternity
In the Eden of divinity
What else I Should ask
That has more dignity
~
Mirza Sharafat