All borders abandon;
All religions scrap;
All sights vanish;
When it gets dark.
 
Thoughts prevail, and the dreams,
To live one morning more.
And to those blasts,
One more scream.
 
Heads roll,
Triumphs count;
Silence makes sense while none is around.
I starve for days, I do not sleep for nights;
I still serve those lazy cowards;
And for them, I fight.
 
I see fireworks from guns in Diwali,
Colors in blasts and blood in Holi,
Sacrificing my soul on Mahram,
Slaying the enemy on ‘Eid,
Praying for peace on X-mass,
But all I see is colorless.
 
I see only wars,
I see only hatred,
But life is colorful they say;
They call this fire red, brick or orange,
They call this snow white,
They call these uniforms brown, dark and green,
But the only thing I see,
The only color I recognize,
Is that the ash is grey.
 
© Amaresh Swain