The cold wind had swept away the kind hearts,
The vampires had occupied their peaceful mind,
With terror and fear in each eyes,
Blood shattered all over the place,
And peace driven out of the area,
The place indicated the landmark of War.
The warriors had used their magic wands called sword,
To steal the breathe of their opponent.
They had left their brains to rot, their minds to wander.
With no brains to think and mind to hesitate,
They had stuck in the magic wand into the opponent’s heart.
The sight of the blood flowing out of the corpse,
A few running to catch their last breathe,
A few trying to identify the injured from the dead,
And the silence of the grave yard indicated that the War was over.
The survivors had lost their friends and relatives, to celebrate their victory.
They had lost their family to love and care for them.
When they sat wondering, trying hard to remember the cause of the war at first place.
It is then they were stuck with the horrible truth:
“No animal hunt its own specie.
No bird prey on its own kind.
And only if humans realize this, will the word war vanish from the world.”
Anusha Subramanian's Other Poems
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