it was not so clear, the day. it was hostile and tranquil.
what sort of Day is That ?
I think it sparkles.
But it's gem is mean, beneath carbuncles -
and none shall pass
without wretched disfunction.
without Unpeace swilling the liqueur
of dark sweets.

it was not so clear, the day. but it clarified the manacles.
what sort of Day is that Dark ???
I think it hardens the heart of all kindness....
but it's dream is obscene, and needs the rest of Heaven's Council.
But Love's an ***
that saw the Angel... not the bulletproof glass.
just the the angle of Descent
and the " No Wisdom ".

it hurts Because.
You Live
for no reason at all
and that's the worst
Joy.

Because.

Staring death in the eyes,
They went and fought on with pride,
With a cry of Jai Hind,
They advanced as fast as the wind,
They went bearing the flag of our home, our Hind,
And came back wrapped in it...

And those at home,sitting in patient expectancy, to their husbands,sons and father's having bid adieu,
Not knowing if they would greet them,or ever again
grace them with their view..
And when they came back in the tricoloured coffin,
The cries were mixed with unspoken pride, knowing
they will go to heaven.

With a flowery wreath on the photographs,
They lie there in their uniforms,
With medals on their chests and memories in the minds
of their loved ones.
Yet, the country they gave their lives to,
Forgets them in a heart beat,
Our heroes, our martyrs lie unavenged, in unpeace,
And all we can say is Rest In Peace.