The Colour of Hope
A soldier fighting for what he hopes is right, trying to make peace with himself... holds on to
a most understated event- the sunrise and pins all his hopes on to it.
Its not yet dawn...
The night has ended.
A soft glow arises in the eastern lands beyond,
Soft, like a mother's touch
Pink, orange,gold,and red all born out of the same deep night
Black desperate sadness reaches out to taste silent delight.
The colour of hope...
The taste of survival returns
Parched throats,blood stained hands...
Another day to hope, to follow the valiant heart...
I pray, someday, to make a new start.
We fight for peace, we kill for you...
Every time we kill, its only something inside us that dies!
Its a sad story, its our silent resigned sacrifice.
The day dawns, amidst the dead and the dying...
Today I am on the battlefield, crying
For the men I have lost, and myself too
But the night has passed and its a day closer to the end,
I hold on to my prayers, silent and few.
Copyright © Girish Gokul | Year Posted 2009
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