Amidst smoke and noise of gunshots
The blood, oozing out from her throat
Drenched that night
And left the
dark world
Dampened in the odour
– it was red in
colour.
Perhaps, she hardly presumed
That something deadly would pierce
Through
her mouth
And plug the path -
A point, where
she had a word for the saline wind
A thick smoke engulfed
Her world of colours
She lay like a stray dog, crushed to death on the road
Blood trickling down her mouth fails
to freeze
They bring oceans of water To clean the red stains on her cheeks
But run back, as they billow in blood
The hunters in khaki, with their modern rifles, continue their search
For human meat
Birds that flew
In the firmament
Feel the worth of wings.
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