A Starling In Solitude Poem by Raj Barath

Blackout – that was profound.
Brunt of lethal tranquility prevailed.
Neither the ever howling grey hound
nor the ever rattling creatures uttered a syllable.
Except for the leaves rustling
and the wind whistling
the ambience was in ominous silence.
“Was the spot called by nature’s fury
or was it haunted by ghouls? ”
asked the unborn little starling to its mom,
who was swaying on rickety tree.
The mom said, the men are more
than they are in eeriness
and they loitered for glee.
An almost deafening roar was heard.
No! it wasn’t a pachyderm
rather he final term
of inspection,
for destruction.
When the people in the tank
blazed their lights on the spot, the
charm of erstwhile was blank,
with only the charred tree housing the starling.
“There’s nothing to ruin come on you clot.
Let’s foray for laurels” muttered,
a lead hearted soldier.
Crick….. sounded the egg with the starling
of serenity unveiling amidst shrouds.