After Warth Poem by Binod Bastola

It was after warth
I felt I took bath
Cleansed all my bloody hands
As well my bloody mind!
No hovering of helpless
Helpless I see ye all
The massacred- - the mind blowing tactics
Dead bodies, dead on the ground
Chopped hands- bodies separated from heads
No one knows whose brothers/sons/fathers
Wrapped in blood bathed
No one knows- -
Blood, colour of blood same as red
Why we killed?
Greed of feel?
Or yours....
Mines?
Why?