Thursday, April 3, 2008

The tale of a land


The only witness of the disastrous event
Each of the grain has a warrior’s name
A globule of blood is embedded in each of the sand grain
A historical land where thousand corpses sleep
The ghosts lie beneath reciting the sad tale
A poppy plant stands on top of each grave
With external beauty and venom filled inside
The onlookers are oblivious of the awful past
Truly mystified by the flower’s beauty
They fail to see the ruinous covert concealed inside
Though the secret is buried and erased from the history
It remains alive in the flower’s vein
Each of the poppy is the witness of the killing spree

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