A Silent Witness

By Arthit Kumar Dutta

And when the war was over,

The cries of our men subsided

With one last look at each other.

Through the soil seeped a crimson Nile,

Watering the land in its own sweet way.

Stretching across the landscape it passed,

Through the corpses; scattered they lay.

And in the middle of the vastness

After the entirety of the war,

Stood one faithful survivor 

That never had stirred.

With a few white

Petals fragile,

It was but a flower, 

beautiful and ethereal

Contained in its beauty, 

a delicate glimmer.

In the midst of the struggle,

It never failed to shimmer.

By Arthit Kumar Dutta