The story repeats

The story repeats

                              

The land was parched and dry,

Filled with sighs and shrieks of men.

In the dark they fought,

Where the children perished,

The women dreamt of death.

And then,

A star came with a basket of grapes,

With a song for the tired souls,

And it brought out a stream like the rain.

But they made wine of the grapes,

They forgot the song.

Drunk as the beasts, 

Hardened like the stones,

They started the campaign of blood.

And the story repeats…

Time knows it all

Time knows it all

                                

Time knows it all

That is,

Even the grave will be

Dust one day.

The fluttering bubbles

Were just deviances.

The end is a black hole

Where everything is still.

Irony

Irony

The saddest of the stories are never heard.

The ugliest knows the purest of love.

In the bluest of the ocean,

Death crawls with million tongues.

Epitaphs on the unknown graves,

Are the most poignant ones.

Hidden in the endless green valley,

Corpses of the soldiers we will never know.

Songs and dances in the glittering light,

Cannot chase away darkness of million years,

Where life and flesh are bought and sold.