A Road To A Short War – HEG George

A white hot finger points your way, 

pushing air aside with each advancing message. 

The renting of air with thunder clap abroad 

makes too much noise, chattering like rattling lungs 
Whispers to an unacknowledged Lord 

bringing forward promised prayers. 

The elastic of fear bringing Him ever closer 
Listen, above the din, a whisper. 

Just a faint whisper in the grass. 

A tap on the shoulder, a poke in the chest 
Cold, so very cold, yet burning hot. 

With stench of faeces left too long, 

the shadow of death falls over this life. 

As yet unknown to its carrier 
This cold, sucking, life-withdrawing colourless odour. 

This all-pervading, all consuming watered soul, 

so thinly veiled with blood and flesh. 
This breathing vessel of emptied life. 

With ice rink stare upon which skaters cut 

figures to the reapers dance 
This day, this very focal point, 

where time no longer elapses, shall 

feel the clod but not the shovel. 

And keep a watch without relief

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About भण्डारी2013

Has a reflective and idealistic types of personality. Loves to participate in Social activities. Extremely loyal by nature. Laid back unless a strongly held value is threatened and a talented writer too.
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