Ruins

Atop a flaming chinar
perches a nostalgic nightingale,
the placid waters of Dal
sketch many a sorrowful tale
of death, and despair,
and a war-ravaged vale

Her paradise is lost
though beauty still remains
in verdant meadows
besmirched with bloodstains

In the quiet of night
a mother weeps
for her son’s memory lives
in a photograph she keeps

This calamity ridden nation
is given no respite
at the end of the tunnel
not a flicker of light

 A comely princess
claimed by two princes
neither seek her consent
as the conflict evinces

Fate, here has foisted
many a ruinous bane
cant, deluge, quakes
and tyrannical reign

A gloom has
settled over life
Many maimed, killed
in a meaningless strife

Barbed wire, sand bags and
stolid soldiers are suffice
To say what has become
the once paradise

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