Gone With The Wind. Poem by Ravi Panamanna

We wage a battle for lands, power and money. Many decades may thus fly, resulting in only broken relationships. The battlers may eventually pass away and the lands may remain as no man's land. If we reflect on the issue, we would ask ourselves- for what purpose do we unnecessarily battle?
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In the name of a hay stack,
In the name of a blocking pathway,
Here in this land a battle was fought;
Here in this land challenges were made.

It was a battle among the relatives,
Friends by overnight were foes.
Blood proved thinner than water
And soft winds were no more heard.

Springs unto the dales made umpteen visits,
Around the fields summers paid their annual visits.
With the owners gone, the inns were now empty,
The battlefield waited for the return of the battlers.

But they never returned,
They were dead and gone.
The turrets were now empty
And chirps were no longer heard.

Except for the hissings and barkings at night,
Except for the twinkling spaces of Jack’s lantern,
The battlefield wears now a silent theme,
A solemn note sung unto the passing winds.