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* Return Journey

I forgot, was it me
in a body pile draped in dust,
still hot, bruised, burnt, a mad megalomaniac
starting a civil war, creating suicide bombers,
young virgins inhaling death?

This journey under the guns, displacing
hapless thousands, will reach destination
on thick, blood stained red, dirt road of life? Step by step
the dynasty breaks and violence, a malignant
spread overtakes the bones
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COMMENTS
Smita Tewari 28 April 2010
nostalgic, wistful, beautiful!
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Nikunj Sharma 12 August 2009
a tribute to the soldier to a mad rebellion a satire seen from the eyes of a patriot this poem is simply a fire Hats off to you
0 0 Reply
Catrina Heart 24 July 2009
Nice tribute written...........Thanks! ! !
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