Battleground

By Ranajoy Adhikary

The wild ones screamed of ecstasy,

Returning damned souls out of reign,

The wars bellowed a hundred deaths,

Blowing off all life's symphonies.

The damned souls then returned,

Away from the war and bloodshed,

And when asked of their sins,

They blamed of the diagreements of the saints.

The saints then shrieked,

Asking for certain executions,

For they wished of forging a path,

The right path which the wild ones would follow.

Then began certain battlecry,

For they forged paths good akin,

Yet they found the evil,

In the ways of their reflections.

Thus they diagreed upon the worldly conditions,

A sigh trailed past whispering silent takes,

And the war of disagreements continued to branch,

And unrest never left the souls of the living.

By Ranajoy Adhikary