Nightmare of War

Again I wake, dream that wakes,
sweating and shaking me in my bed.
Nightmare that haunts like specter,
and I see it, frozen with dread.
Brown is crimson and lay the corpses,
my brothers, my sons, are dead.
But they have not gone apart,
they are living in my head.

Smoke has filled white morn with black,
where shells and bullets on living fell.
Whose body, arms, legs and stomach,
what to sew, no breath alive to tell.
All lay silent, not raising chest with pulse,
and where to bury bodies, I yell.
Sons of motherland fought with courage,
and pride that no ink could spell.

Amidst all the dead I stand,
piles of corpses, everywhere I see.
I repent loss of my brothers and sons,
but war is what stands between foe and me.
The sun must always shine,
and all the darkness must cease.
No blood shall flow,
and mighty as green be the peace.


Baleshwar Singh