The Walk Poem by Siddhant Sharma

Sun was setting in the west,
The view was a nice one,
The waning effect of the sun
Was cool not a sharp one.

Under this comforting sun,
There lay the world running home,
As I was also going home
There was an ice cream parlour giving cones

Beside it I stood, then I crossed the road
To enter our colony
I walked a bit, then I saw a sharp-eyed black crow
Watching a bit of grayish crow solemnly.

The black crow charged towards the grey one,
Who was unaware of it
The black crow attacked, but missed.
The grey crow took him far away with wit

Then they hit each other, wing to wing,
Beak to beak, leg to leg
They had an unstable flight, then a crash,
One crashed into a wall, other somersaulting fell by his head.

Both lay still for a few seconds,
I ask, what does war give? Loss or gain?
Why were the crows waging war?
This question has been asked again.

Man killing man is a common sight,
Every decade is a war,
Terrorist killing common man
Why is there this war?
I could stand there no more,
The sunset was no more a nice one,
No more a nice one.