Mud

By Adon Biju

Drown in this pool,

Only to lose thine soul.

Few feels icy touch of the green,

Wonder if they once stabbed by the rust

Or counselled by the light.

Piles of hand plunged in Mud.

Only to lose thine voice.

Erie silence sways through blood

Numbing their mind,

Glare of Metals occupy little,

In the hollow of the Soul.

Blinded by enemy’s visions,

Only to lose thine path.

Screams of thine blood,

Shattered the bounds.

Light vaporized the dirt,

Even the Flesh nor the Metal,

Stood little against the heat.

Piles of hand rose in Light

Only to find thine Soul.

By Adon Biju